Mean and Green
by Uncle WAAAGH
Summary: There are many, many bad people in the world of DC. Clown princes of chaos, aliens with yellow jewelry, a bald sadistic billionaire, a one eyed monk/assassin, a monster that literally cannot be killed twice.. the list goes on and on. So, when an universe traveling ork and his pet get stuck in the wrong universe, the world will be shaken, from top to bottom. Rated M for Warhammer
1. Chapter 1: Who are You?

Hey everybody.

I am Uncle WAAAGH!

So this is my new fanfic, Mean and Green.

This is a tie in to one of my previous stories (Kriegcraft), and serves as a prequel

But dont worry. You dont have to read it in order to enjoy Meaner and Greener :)

Anyways, I hope you can enjoy!

(I do not own neither the DC comic universe, or Warhammer 40k. All characters belong to their respective owners)

Koronus Expanse

994.M41

The planet of Heremus. Found and Colonized by the Imperium of Man early in the 39th millennium, it was since abandoned. When a massive ork WAAAGH swept the planet, forces of the Imperial Guard and the Adeptus Astartes, the legendary Space Marines, were sent in to defend the planet from falling into xenos grasp. However, after millions upon millions of casualties, the Imperium decided that if they could not hold the planet, and thus the system at large, then neither could the greenskins. They commenced exterminatus. A fury of weapons so destructive that all life was wiped on Heremus and its moons. No one has visited the system in a millennia, for rumors had spread like wildfire of the ghosts of all of those who had died still linger, waiting for an unfortunate victim to free them of their suffering.

However, very recently, a rather peculiar character moved onto the planet, and called it his home. Hiding from a force that was nearly as destructive as himself. This is his story.

/

A pair of green, sweaty, and notably greasy, hands swept through the rubble, grabbing as many shiny pieces of metal that they could find. Rusty pieces of iron, dirty pieces of gold, small bits of Adamantium, anything was prey to the creatures greedy paws. Satisfied with his catch, he threw the bits of metal into a wagon. They collided with each other, making a horrendous noise. Smiling, the ork grabbed the wagon by its handle, and started to drag it along the cracked rockrete road. Its rusty wheels popped, cracked, and screeched, as the ork dragged the wagon around.

Unkle was having a rather good time. This city was full of shiny parts. Shiny parts that he needed. His blood red eyes scanned the rubble of the city, looking for anything worth nicking. As he kept walking, he heard a small squeak underneath his squig hide boots.

"Wot da?" He mumbled to himself, glancing down at his feet. He lifted one of his boots, to find a small toy. He reached down, and grabbed the toy, looking at it intently. Its cloth skin was hideously disfigured and ripped in several places, and one of its button eyes was ripped right out. The other black button was sewed into the doll's head, though it seemed to have come loose. Small pieces of stuffing were shoved out of the dolls body. Unkle looked at for a few moments, before he put it in his pocket.

"Nibbla is going to luv dis." He said aloud, though he well knew that no one could hear him. This planet was nearly uninhabitable, and was incredibly isolated. Perfect living conditions for an ork like himself. Nibbla was his pet, one that he had for nearly ten years. Nibbla waited for him within the city plaza, where he had landed with his rather damaged spacecraft. He would have to fix that too. He started to whistle a little tune, as he continued to drag his wagon down the road. He found another pile of scrap, and began to fish through it, tossing aside rocks and bones and skulls, eagerly snatching up any pieces of metal or other shiny objects that caught his eye. Finally finished with his work, he took a few steps back, admiring the massive pile of junk that was in the wagon. He grabbed the handle, and began to walk back. On the way, he found a mirror, that was relatively intact. He stopped dragging the wagon, and took the mirror in his hand, and took a good look at himself. He stood nearly six feet tall, even though his current posture was hunched. He wore a patchy, and old camouflaged coat, referring to his previous clan that he grew up with, the Blood Axes. A similarly patchy, raggedy, and old hat sat on his noggin, a hat that he had stolen from a humie commissar before he slit his throat. He also wore dirty, and muddy brown pants, that were also covered with soot. His trusty shoota was wrapped around in chains on his chest, and he always had several clips of home made ammunition with him. After all, he always needed it.

"Quite da handsum bugga aint ya?" Unkle asked himself, flexing one of his arms to show off to himself. He threw the mirror away as far as he could. He stood there, waiting for the glass to break. After a few moments, he heard the distant sound of it breaking, and he smiled slightly, as he began to pull the wagon.

"Littul pleashures." He mumbled to himself, as he turned the corner, heading to the center of the town. After half an hour of walking, he reached the capital building of the city, where his spaceship was lounging about in the plaza. He passed the looted and modified interceptor, as he dragged the wagon up the stairs to the front door.

Unkle opened the door to the dormant capital building, letting sunlight flood the empty interior. The grand hall was dusty and dormant. And abandoned. Unkle noticed the hundreds of skeletons that he hadn't taken the time to see. Many of them were humie skeletons, though some of them were orks. Unkle furrowed his eyebrows at that fact, as he continued to pull the wagon through the lobby. He stopped, taking a quick look around. He cleared the back of his throat, and spat in his hands, covering it with mucus and saliva. He rubbed them together for a while, then cupped it around his mouth, careful not to touch his fangs. They felt sore, after all.

"NIBBLA! I'M HOME!" He shouted aloud. His voice echoed throughout the building, but no one seemed to respond. Unkle took a moment to remember that Nibbla couldn't speak. Sure, he could roar, but he couldn't speak. It was at moments like this, where Unkle simply remembered one thing that he hated about being on the run. He was well, alone.

He turned around, going to the back of the wagon, as he approcoached the five foot pile of twisted and jagged metal scraps. He pushed the back of the wagon upwards, making the contents of the wagon spill all over the pile. Like blood out of a wound, shiny pieces of metal spilled out of the wagon, smashing into the pile. After a couple of seconds, and a stubbed toe, the wagon was empty. He put the wagon down, looking at the pile of metal and scraps. Yep, that was enough for him, he thought. Though he noticed that he didn't really have that much adamantium. Then he heard something. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. Impossibly heavy footsteps could be heard from behind him, as Unkle slowly turned around.

Standing behind him was a monstrous behemoth, nearly twenty feet tall. A glistening bone white carapace, dotted with specks of a purple exoskeleton and five foot claws glistened with mucus and moisture. Needle like teeth greeted him, along with two yellowish green eyes. A massive, five foot hron jutted out of its skull, purple chitin stained with red. It let out a massive roar, a roar so loud that Unkle grabbed his ragged ears, as the scream shattered windows and caused cracks in his goggles. Finally, it was done, as it stood over him, looking at him hungrily. Unkle smiled, looking up at the behemoth.

"Nibbla! Yer hungry aint ya?" He said, making two little finger guns, pointing at the behemoths chest. To respond, it stabbed one of its claws into the stone floor. The granite and stone cracked and broke apart at the pressure, as it ripped its claw out of the ground, revealing the large crater that it had created. Unkle looked at the crater, feeling saliva drip down his neck, and also felt it burn slightly. He rubbed the saliva off of his neck with a rag, and looked back up at Nibbla, and smiled.

"Roight roight. I got sum squig jerky yoo can have, but only, and ONLY, if yer a good Tyranid." Unkle said sternly. Nibbla inclined its head, as if it understood, and walked away. It then curled up onto the ground, several feet away from a dormant fireplace. Nibbla was Unkles pet (and bodyguard, companion, and assistant chef) Hive Tyrant, linch pins of the Tyranids, a universal threat that if not stopped, would consume the galaxy. However, that wasn't Unkles problem. Not anymore, at least. He had found Nibbla when scrounging around in Sub Sector Aurelia, gravely wounded, and near death. After some surgery, force feeding (and nearly losing one of his legs) Nibbla had become his new companion. Perhaps, his only companion. Unkle sighed, turning around, as he looked at the massive pile of junk. He stood there for a few minutes, as with one hand, he idly threw pieces of Squig Jerky to where Nibbla was, who

"Do I want ta make annuva un?" He asked himself quietly. He looked at the pile of junk up and down, really thinking if it was worth putting himself in even more trouble. He shrugged.

"Eh. Fings cant get any wurse, can dey?" He asked himself, as he walked over to the far side of the lobby. He went up to an old desk, grabbing his tool kit, as he walked back to the pile of junk. He took out a green piece of paper, and uncurled it, laying it on the wall. After putting a couple of nails in it, he clapped his hands, and put himself to work.

/

As sunset came, Unkle collapsed to the ground, tired and exhausted. He felt something underneath his butt. Reaching under it with his hand, he pulled out a rusty nail, that's tip was now red.

"Dat explains it." He mumbled, tossing it as far as he could. He slowly pulled himself up, using a pillar as support, as he looked at his master piece. The Master Tellyporta.

The Master Tellyporta was something that even the most established ork 'scientists' and 'engineers' could not dream of. Standing ten feet tall, the generator of the Master Tellyporta required so much power, that it could only be used once before it exploded with the power of several nuclear warheads. However, this flaw Unkle had worked out, so that instead of INSTANTLY exploding, now it took several seconds before such a thing happened. The pad itself, nearly twenty feet wide by ten feet long, was the staging center of where the teleportation actually happened. Nibbla took several steps over to stand by him, leaving a puddle of greenish water and goo. In reality, it was a slightly acidic liquid, but Unkle had learned to not even try and touch that stuff. Burned. He looked over the tellyporta and sighed.

"Yoo kant keep runnin from yer problems. Un day, yer gonna have to face em, and yer gonna have to shank dem…" Unkle mumbled to himself, remembering his mentor's advice. He asked himself a question he really, did not know how to answer. Do you want to keep doing this?

Unkle glanced at the Master Tellyportas remote, a small box with a big, red, shiny, and rather pushable, button. If he pushed it, and he and Nibbla weren't on that pad, they were going to be vaporized, and so were a whole lot of buildings. Though he really didn't care for gothic architecture, he did care about one thing. The past, and that one day, he would have to face what he had done.

However, as a door was slammed open, and bolters were fired, Unkle realised that this day was not today. He ducked into cover, fist sized explosions digging into the floor. Unkle peaked around the pillar he had hid behind, getting a view of the intruders. And his jaw dropped.

The Deathwatch were here. And to an extent, that meant the Inquisition. He would have prefered anything, anything then them. Dark Eldar raiders and pirates. Ork Freebooters. Hell, Necrons, but not the Inquisition. And certainly not the Deathwatch.

The Deathwatch were the humies answer of giving the middle finger to all other non humies. Glistening, armored, and armed black giants seven to eight feet tall, they were the established 'xeno hunters', and dedicated their entire lives to killing non humans. However, as far as he knew, the Deathwatch belonged to the Inquisition, the Ordos Xenos if he was correct. It took them twenty years, but they had caught up to him. And if he was going to die, then he was going to go down in a scrap.

"Nibbla! Kill!" He commanded, as he shoved in a clip of armor piercing boolets. Nibbla screamed, charging through several pillars, making a section of the roof collapse. Stone and granite rained down on the Tyranids exoskeleton. The mumbled high gothic of the space marines were barely heard, as they pointed their rifles at the source of the explosion. But they were too late, as the monstrous Tyranid was amongst them. Nibbla impaled one of the Deathwatch Marines with his massive horn, shaking the power armoured giant around, before he threw the marine across the room, making him slam through a window.

The kill team of Space Marines focused on Nibbla, their bolter rounds pinging and digging into his exoskeleton. Nibbla screeched in anger, as it stomped forward, forcing a space marine back, right into Unkle's view. Unkle peered out of cover, and fired with his shoota. Putting it on full auto, he let out a battle cry of 'Dakka Dakka Dakka!' as he filled one of the Deathwatch space marines with bullets. While normal bullets wouldn't have even scratched the paint off the space marines, his modified Kraken Bolts did the job well, and the bullets punctured the Space Marines chest plate, filling him with more bullet holes than squig cheese. Blood flooded out of the holes, as the body still stood, wobbling slightly. One shot to the head sent it careening to the ground. The body collapsed to the ground, as Nibbla swung his tail like a whip again. He battered several space marines with the swing of his tail, sending them flying. Unkle fired again, forcing one of the space marines to throw down their missile launcher, but one lucky shot slammed into the missile launcher's trigger function. The missile launcher fired, letting out a plume of smoke, as the rokkit slammed into another pillar, making another section of the buildings roof collapse. More killteams could be seen in the distance, rapidly closing. Their must have been three, or four of them. Unkle realised that he couldn't fight here. Because if he did, his arch nemesis would finally have what he came for. And Unkle would do everything in his power to deny him that victory. He made a break for the Tellyporta, and shoved two of his fingers into his mouth, and whistled. The high frequency whistle could barely be heard over the clatter of gunfire, but it was still heard. Nibbla heard the whistle, and whipped its head up, and let out a roar of anger, as it barreled through rubble and space marines alike to reach its master. Unkle fired off a quick burst of his shoota, striking one of the space marines that came through in the lense of their helmet, turning their night black helmet red.

"Welp. Guess were doin dis again." Unkle shouted, as he pressed the buttons remote. A little message came up on the button. 'Have a zoggin good trip!'

The generator of the Master Tellyporta struck the pad with purple and black lightning, silently creating a large rift. Nibbla ran through the rift, and Unkle jumped through as well. It closed behind them, and as they drifted through the world of unconsciousness, Unkle smiled to himself, as he distantly heard the explosion. They couldn't catch him. For now.

/

New Jersey

Present Day

/

Somewhere in the New Jersey countryside, a large, purple and black portal opened. Within the portal, insidious voices could be heard, silently whispering and screaming. The sky had turned a dark and sickly black, along with a blood red tint. Finally, two figures were pushed through. The sky turned back to night, instead of its hellish hue, and the crickets started chirping again, now that they had completely forgotten about what had happened. One of the figures slowly got up, before it threw up all over the ground, covering it with brown and green puke.

Unkle moaned in pain, clutching his stomach. He had nearly forgotten how painful using the Master Tellyporta was. And better yet, it was his prototype version. The first time he had used it, he had his arm stuck in the ground, and thanks to Nibbla's excavation skills (which took a while, because believe it or not, five foot scything talons aren't that good at digging up dirt) he still had his arm attached to his body. He rose himself up, wiping the vomit off of his coat with disdain. He turned around to Nibbla's body, which was curled up on the grass.

"Nibbla! Wake up!" Unkle said, giving Nibbla a good kick. Nibbla's tail whipped around, smacking him. Unkle let out a breath of exasperation, as he was sent flying backwards. He slammed into the ground, the air out of his chest, nearly ten feet away from where he previously stood. Nibbla slowly stood up, letting out a growl. It shook its horn, which was still stained of blood, as if to try and get the blood off.

"Oh dun worry bout that Nibbla. We can get da cleaned up lata." Unkle mumbled, as he looked around. They were on an open grassy field, with a small lamp post far away in sight. He spotted the lamp post and grinned.

"Let's go ova dere." He said, pointing at the lamp post far away. Nibbla glanced at Unkle, and started to slowly prance over in the direction Unkle had pointed out. Its massive hooves left large prints in the ground as it walked, small claws along its ankle digging into the ground to give it support. The two walked slowly to the lamp post, until they finally reached it. Nibbla poked at the lamp post with his scything talon, and the lamp post collapsed, landing on the street. Unkle looked up at Nibbla with scorn on his face.

"Nibbla! Woi da hell did ya do dat?" He demanded. Before he got a response (if any) a light shined on both of them, along with the sound of screeching rubber. They both turned to face the sound, as a vehicle drove past them, slamming into the ruined lamp post. The vehicle bucked with the hit, along with the sound of shattering glass and screams.

"Damn, dat git just got wrecked!" Unkle said, hooting in laughter. Nibbla slowly walked over to the vehicle, poking at it with his talon. Unkle stopped his laughter, coming over to Nibbla's side. Their was a person in the vehicle. A humie. Well, not really. Kind of.

The collision killed the humie. That much was clear. Their head had cracked against the glass pane in front of the car, leaving a splatter of blood and brains on the cracked glass. Nibbla stabbed the body with his scything talon, and dragged it out, where he began to feast.

"NIBBLA!:" Unkle shouted in anger, turning around on his heel.

"How many toimes do I have ta say ta not eat humies! Dere too bony, and barely got any meat on dem!" Unkle pointed out. This did not stop Nibbla, as he continued to chow down on the corpse. Unkle sighed, rubbing his face.

"Foine. Dun take me advoice." He growled, as he turned back to the vehicles wreckage. He kneeled down, and reached inside, and began to paw around for anything really. He grabbed a piece of parchment, and took it out. His arm retracted from the car, and he looked over the paper for a few moments, before he grinned.

"Nibbla! Guess wot? Guess wot I found?" Unkle said in excitement. Nibbla of course did not answer, as it continued to rip the corpse apart. Nearly half of it was gone at this point, only leaving the legs. Nibbla was rather messy too, leaving a bright red patch of blood, along with the occasional splatter of acidic bile

"I got meself a map! So ya know wot dat means? Guess! Come on, I know ya can do it!"

As a response, a great gout of blood spurted out of the corpse, splattering Unkle's face. He groaned in disappointment, wiping the gore off with one hand.

"Dat means we can foind were da zog we are, and den dat means we can get da zog outta dis place." Unkle replied, as he shook his hand of blood. Nibbla seemed to be finished with the corpse, as it hungrily licked its teeth clean of blood and flesh. Unkle came behind Nibbla, and started to climb on its back. Careful not to sit on any of the spikes on its carapace, he sat right on the top of Nibbla's body, a foot above Nibbla's actual head. He grabbed onto Nibbla's spore chimneys, and began to pull in the direction he wanted to go. Nibbla complied, as the hive tyrant began to stomp north. Looking at the map, this would take them to a place called 'Gotham City'

"See Nibbla? Dis is gunna be fun, I'm tellin ya!" Unkle shouted in excitement, as the unlikely partnership walked their path.

/

Outskirts of Gotham City

Morning

The sunsets rays beat hard down Unkles skin, and as he opened his eyes, he was blinded by the light. Losing grip, he let out a shout, as he fell off of Nibbla, and onto the ground.

"Oof!" He mumbled, as he fell to the ground, feeling one of his shoulders pop. He hissed in pain, as he realized he dislocated his arm. He grabbed it, and pushed it back into position, growling in pain.

"Zog dat hurts." he mumbled, as he pulled himself up. Nibbla was watching intently, its greenish yellow eyes scanning him up and down.

"Zog off. Already fed ya." He grumbled, as they continued to walk down the road. After ten minutes of walking, Unkle yawned.

"Nibbla, I'm hungry." He stated, as he rubbed his stomach. He scanned the environment, until he saw something. He grinned in anticipation, as he saw a building called a 'restaurant'. Betty's Breakfast Diner, to be exact, but the word 'Restaurant' was underneath it, so it counted. Restaurants had food, and if not that, humies. Though Unkle personally did not like humie meat, it was better than nothing, as he had already ran out of squig jerky.

"Roight. Ova dere, and SLOWLY dis time. I dun wanna get run ova." Unkle commanded. Nibla obliged, as it pranced forward, leaving its trail of slightly acidic residue.

"Wait, ya know wot? Just run ova dere. I'll katch up!" Unkle shouted. Nibbla then proceeded to charge through the meadows, and soon disappeared from view, as it ran into the forest. Unkle sighed, as he took in the environment around him. The calm green meadows. The soft wind that tickled his ears. The screams of human suffering. The sun that beat on his skin. The chirping of birds in the trees. The sound of glass shattering and people running for their life.

Unkle sighed, and took a deep breath. He smelled flowers, petrol, and blood. He opened his eyes, as he saw a trukk being flipped over, and their occupants being dragged out by a scything then proceeded to butcher the occupants who had tried to hide inside of the trukk.

"NIBBLA!" Unkle screeched, several octaves higher than a normal orks voice, as he ran over, infuriated and enraged.

"I SAID, YA DONT EAT HUMIES! DEYS BAD FOR YOO!" Unkle shouted. Nibbla spared him a glance, but then looked away, as he continued to eat the humie. Unkle sighed, walking past his pet, as he walked through the gaping hole in the building. He looked around. A lot of still corpses, and blood. Everywhere. Unkle sighed. Nibbla was quite the messy eater, and he did have a rather large appetite, possibly to match his size. He then glanced at the tables. Most of them were empty, but as he scanned the tables, he noticed one in particular was covered in full.

"Score." He said, grinning. He ran over to the table, and slid into the bench. He looked at the plates full of food, and smacked his lips. This is when he noticed the humie that was hiding underneath the desk. It was a woman, it seemed. Young, it seemed, though not childish young. Her face was covered in tears, her blonde hair sparkled with ichor. She looked at him in horror, and he sighed.

"Dis yer meal?" He asked. She didn't answer, as she was too busy blubbering about sparing her life and mercy, and all of that boring crap. Unkle sighed.

"Is it Nibbla? Is it da big bad Hoive Tyrant?" He asked, pointing his thumb out the shattered window, where Nibbla was busy stalking around the parking lot, busy looking for any survivors. She still could not answer him. Unkle was starting to get mad.

"Roight lissen, yoo betta start answerin me humie, less I get Nibbla ova ere for a littul snakk, and I dont fink you wuld like dat." Unkle said, threatening her. That seemed to get her attention, and she fearfully nodded her head.

"Gud. Now, is dis yer meal?" He asked. She nodded her head.

"Y-y-y-es, b-b-but you can- can- have it." She mumbled, her speal interrupted with heaving. Unkle raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, i'm hungry, but I aint dat full. If ya want sum, den you can have it. Deres uh… deres a spot for ya to sit." Unkle suggested. The building vibrated, and the girl started crying once again, as Nibbla stomped closer. His heavy breath could be heard from several feet away, and Nibbla lowered his body, in order for his head to see through the window, if not barely.

"Nibbla! Yoove eaten enuff humies! Go in da korner." Unkle commanded sternly, pointing to a small enclave of trees. Nibbla hissed quietly. Unkle squinted harder, till the point where his beady red eyes only became slits. Nibbla finally obeyed, as it stomped away, like a moody grot.

"AND GO WASH YERSELF! YER DIRTY AS HELL!" He shouted, as Nibbla continued to stomp away. Unkle sighed, as the woman slowly crawled out underneath the table, and put herself firmly onto the bench on the opposite side.

"Nids amirite?" He said, chuckling slightly. His chuckle died on dry air, as the girl was in complete shock, and he could tell. The wide eyes, the fact how she hadn't even tried to run yet. Perhaps he needed to calm her down.

"So uh, wots dis?" He asked, pointing at the plate full of food in front of him.

"P-p-pancakes." She stuttered.

"Pankakes?" He asked in confusion, glancing down at the stack of pancakes in front of him. Didn't look like meat at all.

"And wots dat?" he asked, pointing to a glass filled with an orange liquid.

"O-o-range Juice." She mumbled. Eh. He was close enough. He grabbed the cup, and drank it one go. He was disgusted, and threw it out the window, making her twitch.

"Dats da worst beer I eva had!" He barked, before he calmed himself, and sighed. There was a whole lot of better ways to handle this.

"So tell me, wots yer name?" he asked, as he began to poke at the pancakes cautiously with his filthy fingernails.

"D-daisy." She replied. Unkle raised an eyebrow. Certainly not a humie name. Not like any he had ever heard of.

"So uh, Daisy, can ya tell me wot planet weze on?" He asked calmly. He could hear some squealing noise rather far away, but he chose to ignore it. Perhaps it was Nibbla going for a quick snack.

"E-earth." she said. Unkle scratched his chin.

"Earth. Earth. Dat sounds familiar." He mumbled. However, he was interrupted, as red and blue light shone in his eyes. He looked out the window in surprise.

Outside, there were seven to eight trukks, all lined up around the front of the restaurant. Roughly a dozen or more humies were hiding behind the cars, shootas and guns pulled out, and ready to fire.

"FREEZE! COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!" One of them shouted, their voice amplified by some sort of cone. He glanced back at Daisy, who was completely frozen.

"Say, Daisy, wot would an ork loike me do in a situation loike dis?" He asked, as he slowly reached for his shoota. He undid one of the chain links, and the shoota fell to the bench.

"S-s-s-surrender?" She asked fearfully. Unkle snorted.

"Yeah, but weres da fun in dat?" He asked, as he put the shoota on the window sill. He pulled the trigger, and began to fire. Instantly, one of the humies fell down, a large gaping hole in their forehead. However, the rest of the humies began to open fire. Unkle ducked, feeling a bullet dig in his shoulder. Daisy screamed, falling to the floor, covering her head and crawled into a ball. He put two greasy fingers in his mouth and whistled. The sound was like a banshee's screeching, and in his opinion, was rather obnoxious. But that was the only call Nibbla ever paid attention to. He then rose up, and let out a full burst of fire, using his standard bullets, instead of the armor piercing bullets. The simple barrage of gunfire caused most of the boyz in blue to hide behind the cars.

"DAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKADAKKA!" He shouted, laughing in between, as he continued to pull down the trigger. A carpet of bullet shells gathered at his feet, as most of his shots completely missed, though some did ping and crack at the trukks. Then, the gun clicked. Empty. He glanced down at the gun, and sighed.

"Ya know? At toimes loike dis, I wunda, wut a zoggin wunderful ooniverse dis wuld be if only I had more bullets on me." He said to himself, as he grinned at the boyz in blue, as he dropped the shoota. It clattered to the ground, sending bullet shells rolling away.

"Say lads? Ya know, when I shot yer lad? Dat was just a trick. It was a… a prank!" He shouted, and then laughed, slapping his knee.

"Ya know, a prank! Just an elaborate, silly, littul joke!" He said, as the boyz in blue cautiously came forward, their guns still raised. Then, the ground became to shake. It was only slight, barely noticeable, but a small grin crossed his face.

"But ya know wot dey say bout jokes, roight?" He asked, as the ground continued to shake, and the boyz in blue stopped, looking around in confusion.

"It's always gotta have a 'killa' end." He said, grinning, as Nibbla stormed through the woods, screaming in rage. The boyz in blue shouted in surprise and fear, as they were quickly butchered and ripped apart. And for some reason, far in the distance, he heard a drum. It was barely audible, but he heard it. It sounded like, Badum, Tst.

"Say, Daisy?" He asked, turning around, to see that Daisy was still on the floor, her face streaked with tears.

"Do ya know how to droive a trukk?"

/

By the time they had gotten in the 'car', as it was called, Daisy had calmed down. Somewhat. Though her eyes were slightly red, and she still had a trail of dried tears from each eye, but she was calm. Unkle closed the door, taking off his hat to scratch his head.

"Roight, so uh, yer 'kops' are kumin to find out wot da hell happened, roight?" He asked, glancing back at Daisy. She nodded.

"Kay den." He sighed. He thought about what he was going to say. As far as he knew, he was on a humie planet called earth, and they seemed to severely lack imperial technology. He had heard of feral human planets, those who had not been introduced to the Imperium, but he had never actually been to one. And right now, yet again, he was on the run. First from the Inquisition, then the Deathwatch, then BOTH, and now, he was in trouble with the local law.

That was a trait he seemed to have. To get into a lot of trouble. But now, his escape options were limited. He needed to get off of this planet, before the Inquisition tried to find him again.

"So uh, were we goin?" He asked, glancing back at Daisy. She sighed.

"I'm going home." She stated, as she took out a pair of keys, and shoved into a hole that Unkle could barely see. The car hummed, as it was turned on. The engine let out a roar, before it slowly went down in volume.

"And uh, weres dat?" He asked, glancing out of the car. Nibbla was currently trying to wash himself in the pond by the diner. This didn't really work, as the twenty foot tall hive tyrant tried rolling around in the two or three feet deep pool of water. He smirked slightly.

"Gotham." She replied.

"Ah, dats gud. Dats were I wuz goin." He stated. She sighed, before she turned around to face him. Her soft, amber eyes looked at him with an intensity he had never seen before.

"Listen. Let's have a deal. You and your… PET." She snarled, pointing outside to where Nibbla was now struggling to get back up from the water, though he slipped and tripped, causing a large splash of water to soak the road. She glanced back at him, and gave him a poke on the chest.

"Neither of you kill me, and I won't rat you out to the police. Capiche?" She stated. Unkle thought about this for a few moments. If their was one thing he learned, while working with the Blood Axes, was that you could always make a profit working with a humie. Why stop now?  
"Foine. Its a deal." He said, offering his hand. She shook it, before she glanced at her hand, and shook it slightly, sending a few beads of sweat on the seats.

"So what about your… pet?" She asked, just as Nibbla emerged from the woods, slowly prancing to the car. She started to get twitchy.

"Calm down would ya? Nibbla's alroight when ya know him." Unkle said, glancing at Nibbla.

"Aint dat roight Nibbla?" He shouted. Nibbla then let out a low growl, acidic saliva dripping through his teeth, splattering the road.

"Anyways, how are you going to well, get him there? It's not exactly easy to get something like… that… in..." She pointed out. Unkle scratched his chin.

"We'll uh, we'll worry bout that lata." Unkle said, as he took something out his sack. He glanced down at the thing he had taken out. It was the doll that he had found in the ruins of the city. He opened the car door, and stepped out. He walked around the car, and glanced up at Nibbla, who had turned to face him.

"Nibbla, down." He ordered. Nibbla did not respond for a few moments, before he stabbed his massive pincers into the ground, and slowly lowered himself to the ground. Almost like he was bowing, though Nibbla still towered over Unkle. Unkle jumped up, grasping one of Nibbla's horns for leverage, and stabbed the doll through the large horn on Nibblas head.

"Dat shuld do it." He mumbled. He then walked around the car, and went back into his seat, and slammed the door.

"Roight, lets go." He exclaimed.

"Wait, what did you do?" She asked in confusion.

"Gave him a bit of me scent. Nibbla's got a good nose, he does." He replied. She did not reply, as she started to drive away. For the next ten minutes, they were both silent, as they drove down the highway, neither really having anything to say. By Gork, if Unkle had even tried to tell this story to any normal ork, he would have been laughed at, and then gutted.

"So… what are you?" Daisy asked, who had seemed to have been rather calm by now. That was good. However, Unkle was insulted that she had never heard of his kind.

"I'm an ork!" He proclaimed, surprise rather clear in his voice. She raised an eyebrow.

"An orc? What are you from, Lord of the Rings?" She asked, laughing at her own insult.

"Da hell is a 'Lord of da Rings?'... bah, neva moind. Ya really neva heard of an ork?" He asked. She shook her head.

"Nope." She admitted. Unkle sighed, rubbing his face. Orks were basically everywhere, and the fact that she had not even seen an ork, let alone even heard an ork, was rather disturbing.

"Weze orks, got it? And orks is good at two fings… maybe three." He said, as he stuck out his hand, and unrolled his fingers from the balled fist they were previously in.

"Weze good at foightin, winnin, and drinkin. But drinkin is a maybe, cuz da Space Wulves are pretty gud at dat too." Unkle stated, sticking up two and half fingers. She raised an eyebrow.

"So you're an alien?" She asked. Unkle moaned, rubbing his face.

"Course I am, ya git." He mumbled. "Wot did yoo fink I wuz?"

"Mutant? Victim of a horrible genetic disease? Just a freak dressed in green with a robot monster?" She suggested.

"Lemme guess. Dose kind of humies live ere?" He asked. She nodded her head. Unkle sighed.

"Wot did I get meself into…" He mumbled to himself, just barely audible. They were silent for a few moments again.

"So how did you get here? On Earth?" She asked. Unkle rubbed his eyes.

"Masta Tellyporta." he simply said.

"Masta Tellyporta?" She asked, confused.

"Masta Tellyporta. Eva been on a Tellyporta?"

"No."

"Dat explains it. Well, ya see, tellyporta is a really simpul fing really. If I had da parts, I could make un meself, lickity split. But da Masta Tellyporta… dats sumfin different." He replied. When he mentioned that he could build one if he had the parts, a spark erupted in her eyes, that was rather noticeable. Unkle smiled slightly. So she was interested in the Mekanic field too.

"Ya see, normal Tellyportas aint gonna get ya far. Personal Tellyportas are gonna get ya ten ta twenny meters, and Tellyporta pads can get ya from wurld ta wurld." He explained, before he chuckled slightly, his smirk turning into a savage grin.

"But da Masta Tellyporta was sumfin different, ya see. Da design was made boi me boss, Razgriz Wrenchbreaka. Razgriz wuz da oldest Mek I eva knew. He said dat he saw da emperah imself, and boi oh boi, wuz it a wunderful soight, he said. Da Masta Tellyporta could take ya from un side of da galaxee to da uvva." He said, stretching his arms to elaborate, that it was a pretty big distance. She smiled coyly.

"So what happened to him?" She asked. Unkle sighed, his cheerful mood disappearing at the drop of a hat.

"He's gone now." He only said, cutting the conversation. They were silent for a few moments again.

"So how did you well… find your pet?" she asked. Unkle glanced out the car window, checking to see if Nibbla had caught up. Sure, he wasn't exactly the fastest runner, but he did have endurance. However, he could not yet see him.

"Long, LONG storee." He admitted. They were quiet again.

"Never caught your name." She added on. Unkle smiled slightly.

"Name is Skaturd Marlax Ibak Gravecrusha, but ya can kall me Unkle." He replied.

/

Gotham City

Dusk

Unkle took the blanket, and threw it over Nibbla. They had to wait for roughly an hour before Nibbla decided to show up, and it seemed that Nibbla had gotten a bit hungry, due to his bloodspattered mouth and talons. Unkle hoped that he hadn't been eating humies again, but that seemed to be Nibbla's favorite treat.

"This is not going to work. At all." Daisy mumbled, rubbing her face. Unkle sighed.

"Course it will. Its foolproof, kunnin, and we have a backup plan." He stated, as he tightened the strings on the blanket, getting a low hiss from Nibbla, who shifted slightly.

"And that is?"

"If we get caught, we bail, kill anyfing that gets in da way, and liv da rest of our days as weirdboys." Unkle chuckled. She apparently, did not get the joke. He sighed.

"Roight, so where we goin?" He asked, as he finally pulled, completely covering Nibbla with the cover. They walked out of the alleyway, and started to cautiously walk down the city streets. Their weren't many people out, but those that were completely frozen. They looked at the massive, blanket covered tyranid, and thanks to the rather dark fabric, made Nibbla nearly invisible thanks to the rather dark environment.

"Just a few more blocks." Daisy whispered, as Unkle continued to parade Nibbla through.

"Da hell are we goin?" Unkle demanded.

"To my house. Small mansion, parents bought it for me. Now shut up, and walk." She hissed. He obeyed, as they continued to slowly walk forward. Unkle had to keep prodding Nibbla in the back of his monstrous leg to keep his tail curled up, as otherwise, it would have been spotted. For the next few minutes, they awkwardly, cautiously, and carefully shuffled forward. Daisy glanced at the residue that Nibbla had left behind in his wake, that left small scorch marks on the concrete.

"Dat stuff dont go through yer shoes, but dont let it get on yer skin." Unkle said quietly. After another few minutes, they seemed to be almost there. However, they were stopped by a police officer. He tipped his hat to daisy, and glanced at Unkle, frowning, his thick bushy mustache that nearly covered his entire mouth moving with the action.

"GCPD. What's this?" He asked, waving to Nibbla. Nibbla was deathly silent, not even moving. Daisy smiled, laughing awkwardly.

"Were… film students! I'm a makeup artist, and this is my friend… Peter." She said, laughing, throwing an arm over Unkle's shoulder, who let out an awkward chuckle.

"Da zog are you doin?" He whispered quietly.

"Shut up and play along." Daisy hissed back, as she took a few steps back. The Police Officer took a few steps forward, looking Unkle over.

"I must say young lady, that your work is phenomenal!" He said, laughing, as he squinted at Unkle. "Have you ever considered going professional?" To this, Daisy smiled.

"No, not really." She giggled. The Police Officer smirked, before he frowned again, looking back up at Nibbla.

"And what's that supposed to be?" He asked. Unkle gulped. However, Daisy blew some air out of her mouth, still rather calm. She seemed to know what she was doing.

"Well, Peter here comes from a wealthy engineer, and to help with the film, he made us an AWESOME animatronic!" Daisy grinned, before she looked at Unkle.

"Why don't you give him a quick sneak peek?" She asked, though her eyes gave him death glares. Unkle smiled slightly, though he was screaming like an ape on the inside.

"Nibbla, please, stay still." He whispered quietly, as he went to the front of the hive tyrant, and pulled the blanket up, just enough for the police officer to get a glance. The Police Officer crouched down, and took a glance at Nibbla underneath the blanket. He instantly pulled back, giving a whistle.

"Damn, that looks near life like! And that's one nasty looking bugger if I ever saw one." he said, chuckling quietly, before he took a vox from his belt.

"10-24, Assignment complete, just some film students going out to shoot a movie, over." He said aloud, before a grumbled response came in return. He then put the radio away.

"May I have your name?" Daisy asked, smiling. He tipped his peaked hat.

"Officer Johnson Burrow." He happily said, before he looked behind the two.

"What's that?" He asked, pointing to the residue behind the two. They glanced at it, and Daisy smiled.

"That's just the oil! They have to use a special combination to keep this baby running." Daisy said, as she slapped Nibbla's leg. Unkle winced, prepared to see the Hive Tyrant gore the poor humie for even trying to touch it. Instead, Nibbla let out a quiet, barely audible hiss.

"Well, I'll let you two loose this time, though please don't parade this thing out here again, it's causing a public disturbance." Johnson said, tipping his hat once more, as he walked away, whistling. He walked for several meters, before leaping into a police car, that cruised away. Unkle sighed, wiping his brow of sweat.

"Dat… dat wuz close." He said, taking a deep breath of air.

"And I don't want to stick around before more come, so let's go." Daisy mumbled.

After ten more minutes of cautious walking, finally, they had reached the house. Unkle prodded Nibbla once more with his shoe, and another hiss erupted from underneath the sack.

"Here it is." She said aloud, waving to the house in the distance. It technically wasn't in the city, as the house was right on the shore, but it was still close enough. It stood upon a large hill, on the edge of a cliff, looking over the waters below. Unkle took a breather, as he pulled the blanket off of Nibbla. It was starting to dissolve away in patches, the acidic residue beginning to burn away at it. Unkle clapped his hands several times. Nibbla's sinuous tail swung around for a bit, before it sloped itself onto the ground. Unkle ran up Nibblas tail and jumped, snatching one of his spore chimneys. He then pulled himself up, until he sat firmly on the top of its body.

"Tired of walkin." He explained to the stunned Daisy, who shook herself out of it.

"How long have you had it?" She asked warily, as she continued to walk up the path.

"Ten years." He responded. She huffed.

"Ten years huh?" She mumbled. She looked away, as they passed the wooded clearing, and into sight of the mansion.

"Welp. Welcome home." She sighed. Unkle took a long look at the house. Two stories, rather roomy, and rather dark. A medium sized red car sat still in the driveway.

"Dis yer hut?" He asked, as he slid down Nibbla's back, stumbling to the ground. She sighed.

"Yeah. Parents bought it for me." She said.

"Yoo said that already." Unkle pointed out. She sighed.

"Sorry. Never asked for it though. I mean, sure it's nice, and they also do pay the property taxes, but I never really see them anymore." She said, before glancing back at Unkle, who had a confused look on her face.

"They live on the other side of the country." She explained. Unkle nodded slightly.

"Well den. I fink its time dat I have sum fun…" He mumbled to himself, as he rubbed his hands, cackling slightly. Until he found a way off of this rok, he would have to soothe his thirst the only way he knew how…

/

S.T.A.R. Labs, Gotham City

Two weeks after

Midnight

S.T.A.R Labs is a prestigious chain of research facilities, laboratories, and buildings. With highly advanced technology being pumped out of each lab like factories, of course, they had top notch security. With dozens of armed guards, security guards, reinforced bulkheads, top notch surveillance systems and the like, it was nearly impossible for anyone to get close to the laboratory without being spotted, less so if they were trying to break in. However, one certain individual liked to defy the odds.

In the cloak of darkness, right outside the gated entrance, two guards stood outside. They were lightly armed physically, but dozens of security cameras watched their backs. They stood next to each other, when one started to whistle. The guard was whistling to the tune of 'The Boys are back in Town', by Thin Lizzy.

"Could you stop?" The other guard snarled, promptly ending the whistle. He sighed, leaning against the gate, looking at his fingernails. He needed to cut them.

That was the last thought he had ever had, before his throat was slit. The guard gargled on his own blood, before he slumped to his knees, and toppled to the ground. The other guard was about to scream, but a quick shank to the chest stopped him from doing so. A shadowy figure, barely visible, snuck into the small building beside them, and began to poke at the computer. It was locked, and required an eight digit password. One green finger tapped the '1' button on the keyboard eight times, and then pressed enter. A red screen appeared. The figure snarled, and smacked the computer. The screen then turned green, giving a sliding message. 'Access granted.' A long menu then opened up, showing a variety of files and menus. One of them was labeled, 'Surveillance System.'

"Squingo." The figure whispered, as he dragged the mouse to the file, and opened it. A long menu appeared, and after several random clicks, the security cameras around the northern gate stopped functioning, and shut down. The figure grinned wildly, as he stepped outside the building. He stood nearby the bodies of the guards, and whistled loudly. A black shadow erupted from its hiding spot of a dumpster, slowly stomping forward. It then stood over the bodies.

"Get rid of em." The small one ordered. The creature obeyed, by opening its mouth, and puked out a translucent greenish blue fluid. The fluid was dumped all over their bodies, and quickly began dissolving them until their was nothing left but a puddle of green goo. It began to lap it up, as the other figure started working on opening the gate.

Unkle smiled, as he placed several home made explosives on the gate, and began to wire them together. He had found several broken toasters, a part of a gutted microwave, and several plastic forks and straws in the dump today, and he knew exactly what to do with them. It had been two weeks since he had first arrived on Earth, and he decided that the sooner he got off of it, the better. Where else better to go, then a place called S.T.A.R. labs? It had S.T.A.R. in it! It was the perfect choice of where to get some good loot!

However, the place seemed to be more locked down then a Bad Moons teef jar. With guards, cameras, gates, and perhaps turrets, it would have been nearly impossible to get in. Thankfully, he knew what to do after meeting a humie that called himself 'Black Mask'. He had met Black Mask while he was busy scraping through stuff, and it turned out that the stuff belonged to Black Mask. After he and Nibbla were done killing thirty of his boyz, and holding him at gunpoint/talon point, Black Mask had pleaded anything for his life. And all Unkle wanted to know was how to get in.

"Gonna have to call Black Mask, and fank him." He said, grinning, as he primed the explosives. He ran away from the gate, and stopped, standing several meters away from the gate. Nibbla finished lapping up the guards biomass, and followed him, as Unkle squeezed the detonator. The gate was blown open by the explosives, and a red light, followed by a blazing alarm was heard.

"Hm. Looks like dey want fings to go faster." Unkle mumbled, as he and Nibbla barged into the facility. Red makes things go faster, and he assumed that the red light coming from the alarms made him and Nibbla go fast. However, as they ran through the front entrance, bulkheads began to seal, thick metal doors that tried to block their progress.

However, a rather angry twenty foot behemoth that weighed over six tons did not necessarily care for such bulkheads, as it rammed through each and every single one of them. They stopped, as they had entered a long hallway, that was rather begin with. Unkle turned around, noticing the dozens of guards that were coming forward.

"Roight Nibbla, hold the fort. Won't be gone for long." Unkle shouted, as he grabbed his newly made shoota, and shoved in some ammunition, as he went through the hallway, closing the door behind him. He could hear the Hive Tyrants roar of anger and the screaming and gunfire of humies. He smiled.

"Oh Nibbla. Yer so luvable." He mumbled to himself, as he began to stalk through the hallways. He checked each room, beginning by smashing the doors window open, and then pulling it open. To be honest, none of them had anything. Interesting, at least. Each one was full of computers, beakers and other types and forms of scientific equipment, but none of them really interested him.

"Bah. Should just blow dis place ta hell." He growled, nearly half an hour later, as he came through another hallway. He began the now tedious process of checking each and every room again, before in anger, he slammed one of the doors so hard, it partially ripped its hinges. Unkle chuckled, before he shook his head.

"Nah. Nuffin good here." He grumbled, as he started to trace his steps back. Soon, he ended up in the large corridor where he had left Nibbla, but he couldn't find him.

"Where did dat nid go…" He mumbled to himself, as he heard someone groan. It was one of the guards, who was trying to crawl away. One of his legs had been ripped off, small tendrils of muscle and gristle still popping out. Unkle grinned savagely, as he pointed his shoota at the wounded man, and tried to pull the trigger. Tried.

A black metal object whistled past his face, smacking his shoota to the side. Unkle gasped, as the shoota was brutally ripped from his hands, and sent flying to the floor.

"Wot da?" He said in confusion, as he turned around to face the intruder. A black fist smacked right into his jaw, sending him skidding to the ground. Unkle snarled, as he pulled out his slugga and choppa, and fired off a quick potshot at the intruder. It missed. Badly. However, the intended effect had occurred causing the opponent to think twice. Unkle pulled himself up, looking at the humie that dared to whack him. He whistled, letting out an ear piercing pitch, before he looked at the figure.

"Who da hell are yoo?" He demanded. The figure swiped its cape, revealing a masked humie, though his mouth was still visible.

"I'm Batman."


	2. Chapter 2: Break n Entry

Hey guys, Uncle WAAAGH! here.

So here is chapter 2 of Mean and Green

I would like to wish you guys a merry Christmas/ Hanukkah / Kwanzaa (or all of them if you are that kind of guy)

And have a Happy New Year!

"I'm Batman."

Unkle raised an eyebrow.

"Ya know, dat really doesn't help me out." Unkle pointed out.

"I'm not here to help you." Batman retorted, taking several steps forward. Unkle growled.

"So yoo aint a talka. Gud!" He snarled, and let out a battle cry, as he charged forward. He swung with his choppa, the blade of the axe screaming downward, intent on slicing the humies arm clean off. However, it instead landed between the serrated edges of Batman's gloves, that ran down from his wrist to his forearm. Before Unkle had a chance to react, Batman twisted his own arm, making the blade of the axe snap off of the handle. Unkle glanced at the wooden stick in his hand in shock, hearing the metal edge clatter to the ground.

"Well dats just-"

Batman lashed out with a violent kick to the gut, sending Unkle stumbling backwards. He tripped and fell with a whump on one of the disemboweled corpses. Several whooshing objects whistled towards him, and as a reaction, Unkle grabbed the corpse by the head, and used it as a barbaric, yet effective meat shield. Literally, as the black, bat shaped blades dug into the flesh of the body. He threw the corpse off of him, as he growled, firing off a whole clip of Slugga ammunition. Batman didn't even flinch, as nearly every single bullet missed the target, by a rather wide berth. Only one actually hit Batman, and the one bullet that did pinged off of Batman's chestplate, though it did make Batman stagger by the impact. Bulletproof.

"Huh." He mumbled, as he threw the slugga at Batman. This time, Batman rolled out of the way, as he threw more of the metal things at Unkle. Unkle let out a squeal, and ducked, though he hissed in pain, as one lodged itself right in his shoulder. He looked at it, and ripped it out. The black metal was now covered with a dark crimson, and Unkle threw it down in anger.

"Oh, yer gonna regret that." Unkle growled, as he looked to where Batman was. However, his eyes noted something rather critical, that his brain was quickly informed of. Batman wasn't there.

However, he quickly realized where he was, when Batman tackled him, pinning him to the ground. Unkle snarled, as he gave a wild uppercut at Batman. It appeared that he had not expected that, as he was sent skidding to the ground. Orks had far more strength than the average man, though obviously, this wasn't no average man.

"Who are you?" Batman demanded, as the two fighters circled each other.

"I'm an ork! And yer going to get yer ass kicked in a moment!" Unkle snarled.

"You're fighting style is wild and unpredictable. I doubt that will happen." Batman retorted. Unkle fumed, stamping his foot.

"You wot? I'll deck ya, yoo twat!" Unkle snarled, as they charged each other. Unkle lashed out with a wild swing to the stomach, that Batman partially dodged, so instead of his fist hitting his gut, it hit the side of his abdomen. Batman gasped in pain, as Unkle snatched him by the throat, and threw him like a ragdoll. Batman was thrown several feet away, though he did manage to do a flip mid air, and he landed on his feet.

"Show Off." Unkle spat, as he came forward again, swinging wildly. Batman ducked and weaved under his tirade of blows, and with his final punch, Batman grabbed his fist with an armored gauntlet. Unkle pushed harder with all of his strength. Batman struggled to keep Unkle from pushing him back, as with his other fist, he snatched one of Batman's pointy ears and yanked, ripping it off. It revealed another layer of metal and material. Batman snarled in anger, as he snatched Unkle by the throat with his free hand, and flipped him over, making Unkle fall right on his chin. He spat out a bloody tooth and snarled. He lashed out with a violent kick, and grinned with savage glee as he heard a grunt of pain from behind him, as well as several steps backwards

"Now yoo asked for it ya grot!" He shouted, as he reached into his coat, pulling out another shoota. Shoving a clip of ammunition into it, he released a full, wild burst of gunfire. This sent Batman running to cover. Unkle, seeing the black coated humie hide behind a pillar grinned wildly, and hooted. He stood up, letting out several more bursts of gunfire, letting out a cackle of savage glee.

"Hoidin are ya? Dis'll teach ya!" He snarled, as he pulled out a stikkbomb from his coat, pulled the pin, and threw it. The pin twisted and turned in the air, and it clattered against the metal pillar, and it took a crucial second to realize what Unkle had done. He had thrown the wrong part of the grenade. He stopped for a moment, and tried to remember the instructions of how to throw a stikkbomb.

"Take da stikkbomb, then pull da pin… den wot… erm… frow both? Nah… dat dont sound roight. Err… Well, consider yer options Unkle, yoo have un part of da stikkbomb. So frow dat too den!" He said to himself, snapping his fingers in realization. Unkle threw the right part of the stikkbomb this time, but not far enough for him to be unscathed. The bomb exploded in a fiery inferno, dosing everything in shrapnel and metal bits. Unkle was flung back by the blast, and was sent skidding to the ground. He slowly pulled himself up, growling, as he looked at his arm. His left arm was peppered with metal shards, most an inch or two large. He clenched it, slowing the flow of blood that ran down his arm.

"Zog dat hurts." He mumbled. Batman emerged from the pillar, and Unkle noticed something. From what very little facial emotions he saw, he could see something that he did not expect, and the sentence that followed this confirmed his confusion.

"You need medical attention." Batman stated.

"Piss off yoo grot. I'm gettin outta here." Unkle mumbled, as finally, he pulled out the last item he had left in his coat. It was a large metal and plastic disc, nearly three feet wide. As he threw it to the ground, it let out a cough and wheeze, followed by oily black smoke, as the plate began to widen on the ground, turning ten feet wide.

"You're not going anywhere." Batman growled, as he approached menacingly. Then, the ground began to shake. Batman stopped moving, and Unkle grinned wildly.

"Sure I am. OH NIBBLA!" He shouted aloud, cupping his mouth with one of his hands. One of the walls to the laboratory were smashed open, sending pieces of metal and granite skittering to the ground. Nibbla let out a roar, as its green and yellow eyes settled on Batman. Its silent malice could be felt like a thick cloud of flies, buzzing and nibbling in the back of his brain.

"KILL HIM!" He ordered. Nibbla obeyed, as he straightened out his spine, and let out a roiling roar. A green bubble appeared from Nibbla's carapace, one that traveled up his throat, and finally, out from his mouth. The bubble of bioplasma was spewed out, making a beeline to where Batman stood. He rolled out of the way, as the caustic fluid detonated on contact with the floor, making blue lightning crackle around the zone of impact, as the bioplasma burned and dissolved the floor, making a small crater. Nibbla stomped forward, letting out a screech of anger. Batman took out a slugga from his hand, and fired. Instead of a bullet, a long, black line came out from the guns barrel. The black hook disappeared from sight, but Batman was dragged up into the air and was shot forward, and it was only then, Unkle realised the target. It wasn't Nibbla. It was him. Unkle ducked, and he felt Batman whoosh over him. He turned, and had his gun trained on Batman, when only then he realized the dozen cop cars that were parked outside. He knew he didn't have time. Better to run now, and come back for another go. He snatched the detonator from his pocket.

"Noice try! Nibbla! Get yer ass ova here! Were leavin!" He shouted. Nibbla obeyed, though somewhat hesitantly, as it stomped forward, stepping on the pad. Batman took something out of his belt, and threw it. Unkle barely noticed it, as he pressed the button. The tellyporta pad screeched and squealed, as it zapped the two away, and disappeared in a thin smoke. The pad was still there, but after a few seconds, it detonated like a bomb, sending shrapnel, toaster bits, two Iphones, and a Pop Tart wrapper flying.

/

Daisy's House

2:30 AM

/

Unkle rubbed his head, as Daisy yanked at another shard of shrapnel. Her face was contorted in disgust and queasiness, as she pulled the shard of metal out of his arm. He growled slightly, feeling blood pump out from his arm. She had long found about what he did in his free time, and despite her begging for him to cease such action, he unfortunately had no choice. The longer he stayed in one spot, the more likely he was to be found. And he wouldn't have that. However, this… Batman character, could be a serious problem for his plans.

"You should have seen a doctor." Daisy hissed, as she barely managed to stop herself from puking. Unkle twitched at the word of doctor.

"I dun need no Dok. I'm a healthy ork ya know." Unkle mumbled, stuttering slightly.

"And a healthy ork needs a good dosage of metal and shrapnel to stay shipshape?" She retorted. Unkle sighed.

"Pull them out fasta would ya? Dis is getting embarrasin." Unkle said. She nodded, as she threw the shard to the ground. Five down… twelve more to go.

"I'm just surprised this didn't have to be amputated." She replied, as she began to pull at another piece of shrapnel.

"Nah. I always kum prepared." He replied, as he went through his bag, pulling out a green vial. Fightin Juice. It was nasty stuff, and was basically like drinking acid, but it did help in situations like this. He popped the cork, and heard it clatter to the ground, as he began to down it.

"What's that?" She asked in curiosity, as Unkle continued to down it.

"Nonoyerbusiness." Unkle retorted, though his speech was somewhat slurred and sounded distant, as he finished drinking the cocktail, and wiped his lips of green liquid. He let out a vile belch, and wiped his mouth. Daisy sighed.

"Obviously from where you come from, you didn't learn any manners." She mumbled, as she yanked out another shard. Unkle scratched the back of his neck.

"Manna? Nope, neva herd of it." Unkle replied. She sighed.

"Then I'll have to teach you." She replied. They were silent for a couple of minutes, as she continued the tedious process of yanking shrapnel from his arm. He looked out the window, seeing in the darkness that Nibbla was constructing some kind of hut from dead wood and rotten trees. Less of a hut, but more of a pile to be honest, but it still showed that Nibbla was smart. And sometimes, Unkle wondered who was really in control of one another. He shook his head, as finally, the last jagged shard was ripped out of his arm, and was discarded. Daisy then took a cloth bandage, and began to wrap it around his arm. Unkle raised an eyebrow.

"Dat needed?" He asked, slightly confused. She nodded her head.

"Yeah. I'm not washing your blood out of my couch." She replied.

"Roight. Gotcha." He mumbled. They sat on the couch, while Daisy reached for a small object, and pressed a button. A large box in front of them lit up.

"Da hell iz dat?" He asked.

"TV."

"TV?"

"Television."

Unkle sighed, getting up.

"Welp. Back to da garage fer me. Got sum fings I need ta build." He said. He left the room, as he traveled through the house, and eventually to the garage, or as he liked to call it, 'Da werkshop'. Inside was all of the junk, loot, and scrap he had managed to salvage, along with the tools needed. Nail Guns, Rivet Guns, Buzz Saws, Chain Saws, Jigsaws, really anything that had the word Saw in it (and yes, this did include a box of jigsaw puzzles, for spare parts). He turned on the light switch, bathing the room in golden light. He looked at the mountain of junk, and sighed.

Things were going to be hard. A lot harder without the blueprint, which he had so carelessly left behind. He just hoped that nothing of the damn piece of paper was left. It caused quite a lot of trouble, and the only reason he had never ripped it up prior was simply because Razgriz never really saw his masterpiece come to life as he imagined it. And he wanted to perfect it.

One thing he knew he needed though, was power. Sparky stuff. And a lot of it. He glanced at the map of Gotham that was knifed into the wall. He took a pencil, and drew an X over the location of where the S.T.A.R. lab was. That place had nothing good to loot, though he could perhaps hit it another day. He absently mindedly reached over to a box of Pop Tarts (Hot Fudge Flavor, he wasn't that much of a savage) and ripped open the wrapper, and crammed one in his mouth. Pop Tarts had become his favorite food while on earth, and it didn't help that the wrappers were pretty good components in the tellyporting mekanisim. He chewed it rather noisily, and grinned to himself, as he looked at his next location.

"Only so many gud places ta loot. If S.T.A.R's ain't good. Hmm…" He mumbled, rubbing his chin. Then, an idea popped into his head. He chuckled.

"Maybe yoo can just buy da parts instead of nicking em. Yeah! And were wuld be da best place to get teef?" He said aloud, as he looked over the map, and then smiled.

"Woi, go to da fanciest place in town, of course! Bruce Manor!" He grinned. He laughed some more, spewing pieces of wet toaster pastry all over the map, as he started to grab random items and gutted them, working on his new batch of inventions.

/

Mercy General Hospital

3:00 AM

/

"How is he?" Batman asked, glancing back at the wounded security guard, who was now in critical condition. However, even he realized their wasn't much they could do to save him. With his ligaments and muscles turned, along with several bullet wounds and savagely ruined legs. The surgeon shook his head.

"Half of his veins are ruined, he's losing more blood then we can give him, and some strange virus is in him. His organs are slowly shutting down… I'm afraid there's nothing we can do." He mumbled. Batman glanced back at the security guard, before he sighed.

"What's his name?" He asked in his trademark gravelly voice. The surgeon took a clipboard, and looked at it for a few moments.

"Jason Dragovich." The surgeon replied slowly. Batman slowly got up, and folded the Security Guard's hands over his chest, and left. His footsteps echoed throughout the halls. Not many people were here anyways, which he supposed was good. But one thing that Batman hated was that the Security Guard was the only survivor of the attack on S.T.A.R. labs. Forty seven dead, and as Batman took another step, he heard a heart monitor failing, a long and drawn out beep, it had become forty eight. He always hated when their was nothing he could do. As he left the hospital, a man closed his umbrella, shaking it of a light drizzle. Dozens of raindrops were scattered in the wind, floating away with a breeze.

"Batman." Police Chief Jim Gordon mumbled.

"Gordon." Batman replied grimly, before he paused. "Who was he?"

"Who?" Gordon asked, slightly confused.

"The culprit. The one who wrecked S.T.A.R. lab?" Gordon asked. He nodded.

"To be honest, I don't know." Gordon replied, taking off his glasses, and rubbing the water droplets off of the lenses. "But this incident isn't isolated. Found thirty bodies over in East End a few days ago. They were thugs, belonged to Black Mask. But they didn't deserve to die." Gordon said, before he paused again. "Well, not like that, anyways."

"Do you have any suspects? Their had to be plenty of DNA evidence at the crime scene." Batman stated. Gordon furrowed his eyebrows.

"Oh, there was plenty of DNA evidence alright. Except that it's not human." Gordon replied. Batman thought about this for a moment. Aliens did exist, and most of them did have superpowers to some degree, but this was different. He needed to know more about the 'ork'. But he didn't have time. He glanced down at his wrist, as a screen came up. His tracking device failed to attach to the ork and 'Nibbla', but he did at least get a picture of them. Of course, he would not rest until they were caught.

"Has anyone seen them before?" Batman demanded. Gordon let out an 'ehh' noise.

"One did. Officer Johnson Burrow mentioned something about film students and a scary animatronic. But, you won't get too much information out of him. He got killed in a car accident a week ago. Tragic stuff." Gordon stated. Batman grimaced. This wasn't good.

"So what do you think about this new loony?" Gordon asked, as he opened his umbrella again, brushing his hair out of his face. He didn't like the rain, it seemed.

"A mechanical genius it seems. The culprit built a teleportation device out of spare parts and garbage." Batman replied. Gordon raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe he can fix my sink." He snorted. Batman gave him a glare, before he continued.

"Stronger than the average human… tougher than one too. Doesn't seem to be that bright though." Batman added on. Gordon nodded.

"Well, I'll let my boys know that we got a new psycho on the streets." Gordon replied, as he raised one of his hands. A taxi pulled up, and Gordon started to walk away. How did he even get here in the first place? Batman watched the car drive away, and then made a mental note in his mind. He was going to have to visit The Iceberg Lounge. If anyone knew who these two were, then Penguin was his best bet.

/

Daisy's Mansion

The Next Day

/

Daisy slid the cake batter onto the pan. The gooey, chocolatey mix oozed itself out of the mixing bowl, and into the pan. Spreading it out with a spoon, she instinctively ducked underneath the quick bolt of electricity that was flung her way, as she slid the pan into the oven, and set the bake time for twenty minutes. She ducked underneath another bolt of golden lightning, as she went to the sink, and poured herself a glass of water. She edged her head to the side, as rivet was flung her way, and clattered into the sink. She drank the glass, and wiped her mouth, before she dodged another piece of metal being flung her way. Though she had protested against it, Unkle had taken his base of operations from the garage, to the kitchen. Of course, at first it had been annoying, but now it was predictable.

He was gutting a car engine that he had found in the dump with a massive knife and a wrench. He stabbed the 'knife' into the engine, and wrenched out oily chains and gears, as well as other bits of metal that she couldn't easily identify. Most of it was thrown directly into the recycling bin, though some parts was put in a small, yet slowly growing pile of mechanical bits, or as he called them 'gubbins'. It was a test of her patience to put up with his horrible habits of cleaning, but she was going to put an end to it, sooner or later.

"Dats it!" Unkle shouted in joy, holding up one part in complete happiness. She glanced back at him, as he rose up so quickly his chair was shoved out of the way. He ran out of the kitchen, and she could hear his footsteps echo throughout the house. She sighed, and decided to follow him, as bad of a choice as it seemed. A few minutes, as she entered the garage, she paused. Hanging on a rack and barbed hook was a large suit of armor. It hung there, lifeless. It seemed to be made of scrap metal, with rusty pieces of metal jutting out at random angles, along with several glass components that ran through the armor plates. A skull with two red axes was painted on the chestpiece and shoulder plates. Unkle was sitting on top of the hanging suit of metal, busy shoving components inside of the armor. Two small tesla prongs stuck out from the back, twisted and crooked, jutting out at an angle. But as Unkle shoved the final piece in, followed by the sound of wires being snipped. Blue crackles of electricity traced the armor's prongs, and it swam and ran through and on the armor pieces like hounds on a wounded deer. Unkle grinned, as he turned a quick switch, turning off the crackles of electricity. However, it turn, it gave him a quick zap, one that made him jerk in pain, and fall off of the armor, and fall into a pile of metal bits. Daisy cringed slightly, as a tidal wave of metal pieces washed over the granite floor. After he smoothed out his coat, he grinned, gesturing to the armor that hung on the hook.

"Daisy, may I present to ya, da Electric Arma!" He grinned, as he whacked the armor with his free hand, making the hook retract. The suit of armor fell to the floor, though it stood on its own.

"Dis babee is da pini… erm… well…" Unkle mumbled, as he bit his thumb, trying to think of something, eventually, he mumbled to himself, waving his hand to the suit.

"Ya know wot? Its just a beauty, and yoo shuld be admorinin it." Unkle said. Daisy raised an eyebrow.

"How did you make it?" She asked. He waved his hand.

"Bah, it wuz nuffin. Couple of toastas, burny fingies, Pop Tart's course, sum foil… sparky bits… shiny bits… yer car…" He said, as he continued to list random objects off like it was nothing.

"You did WHAT?!" Daisy shouted. Unkle's ears twitched at that.

"Err… nuffin." He said. Daisy fumed in anger, stomping outside. And their it was. What was left of her car.

It was once a Mercedes Benz. And now, all that was left was parts of the chassis, and three tires. Everything else was gone. Daisy's cheeks turned a shade of blood red, as she turned around, furious.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH! DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THAT COSTED US?" She screamed. Unkle scratched his head.

"A bukket of teef?" He suggested.

"TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND! THAT'S FIVE MOTHERFUCKING ZEROES!" She screamed. Unkle raised an eyebrow.

"Wow! Dats… dats a lot of zeroes!" He pointed out. Daisy groaned, pulling her hair, and falling to her knees.

"Oh my god… my parents are going to kill me!" She screamed aloud, pulling at her hair unconditionally. Unkle clearly looked worried, and he lifted his hat, and scratched his head.

"Look, if yer car wuz that important to ya, i'll get ya a new one. With FREE red paint!" He suggested. Daisy shot him a glare that made him take a step back.

"I don't want YOUR garbage. Hell, I would even be surprised if it worked." She growled. He clearly was offended by that.

"You wot? Orky techyology, is da best, most reliant pieces of wurk yoo'll eva see!" He proclaimed.

"Yeah, right." She hissed. He frowned.

"Foine. I'll buy ya da best trukk yoo eva saw!" He shouted. Then she grinned.

"Fine. If you want to stay here, you better have it here by tomorrow morning." She growled. He furrowed his eyebrows.

"If dats how its gunna be, den dats how its gunna be." He merely said.

/

Bruce Manor

11:30 PM

"Oh shush Nibbla! Dis Bruce Wayne twat wont even know wot happened to him." Unkle grumbled, as the two slowly walked through the woods surrounding the mansion, looking for an opening. The serene woods provided as an effective source of cover, hiding the pair from any speculative eyes. However, Nibbla didn't seem to like this one bit, as with every step he took, he crushed rock, leaves, and dirt, making more noise than desirable. The two continued walking, as they headed in the general direction of the manor. He only hoped that he managed to loot enough stuff in order to keep his place in Daisy's house. It seemed that other Humies weren't so kind to aliens.

The Batman was another issue. It seemed that he was everywhere. While he was watching the news yesterday, he noticed that the Batman came out only at night. So it was a grave risk to go out looting in the night, but he knew that the cloak of darkness was the only real way he could actually go out into the city. And even then, he usually kept to himself, and kept his operations rather discrete.

"Roight. Dis place is gud." He mumbled, as he threw his duffel bag to the floor. Metal parts spewed out, as well as several car batteries and jumper cables. He unwrapped the power tools chained to Nibbla's carapace, as he began to make the tellyporta entrance. This was an insurance policy, if things went out of hand. The distance between Daisy's Mansion and Wayne Manor was too far for a normal tellyporta pad, and he did not yet have the tools to make one that could reach such a distance. As so, this was as far as it was going to go.

Unkle slipped on his goggles, and powered up a welder, as he began to fuse the components shut, every now and then taking a wad of gum and chewing it, and then spitting it on a particularly weak part of the Tellyporta. It took ten minutes to make the tellyporta pad, and as he connected the car batteries to each other, and linked them to the capacitor on the pad, golden lightning shot out, coursing through the red and blue wires. The pad began to shake violently. Unkle grinned, as he adjusted his hat, and took the spare car battery, and attached the spare cables to himself, grasping the claws on the tesla prongs.

"Roight Nibbla. Put yer best game face on. Toime fer an Break n Entry." Unkle proclaimed aloud, as he flicked the switch. He screamed in pain, as the electricity coursed through the batteries and into his armor. However, Unkle was slowly being cooked by the cables. Finally, he reached for the cables and detached them. He fell to the floor, twitching and jittering, as the electricity retreated back into the prongs. At the press of a button inside of the armored suit, the electricity would have been released, and cooked anyone in arms length.

"Note… note ta self… be OUT of da arma when yer fuelin it…" He mumbled in pain. He slowly got up, and shook his limbs, working out the sparks of electricity that jumped and danced through his nervous system. He primed his shoota, shoving in a batch of ammunition, as he began to walk to the Manor, which was now in sight.

"Ya see Nibbla? Dis is excitin, yoo know. Gets da blood rushin frew dose blue lines in yer body, ya know?" He asked, glancing up at Nibbla. Nibbla of course did not respond, but let out a low grumble as a response.

"Hm. Doo yoo even have blue lines?" He asked, as he glanced at Nibbla's paper white skin. Nibbla let out a growl. Unkle snorted.

"Foine. If yer gonna be such a grouch bout it." He replied firmly, as the two soon came across a small stone wall, that blocked their path for entry.

"Smash." Unkle commanded. Nibbla spared him a glance. Unkle sighed.

"Please?" He added on. Nibbla then obeyed, as he simply walked through the wall. Unkle grunted.

"Since when did ya need an invitation?" He demanded, as he followed Nibbla through the hole in the wall, as they finally reached the mansion. As Nibbla walked through a wall of the house, neither of them noticed the silent alarm going off, alerting a certain someone to their presence.

"Roight Nibbla, yoo stay here. I'm gunna have meself a look." Unkle commanded. Nibbla obeyed, as it turned its back to Unkle, and began prowling along the front lawn of the manor, looking for something to snack on. Unkle smiled slightly, as he began to look through the mansion, taking things of interest.

"Oh Nibbla. Yer so luvable." He mumbled to himself. Several minutes later, Unkle came across an old grandfather clock, that seemed to have been broken. It severely irked him that it was broken, but was ancient in design, and was showed so proudly. He shook his head. He simply wouldn't stand for this. He began to rip at the grandfather clock in order to get into the pieces inside, when suddenly, he noticed something. The black hole behind the clock. He began to pull it away, as it revealed a secret entrance.

"Sweeet." Unkle grinned.


	3. Chapter 3: Lockup

**Hey guys, Uncle WAAAGH! here!**

 **Sorry for the delay. Writers Block, and Work. Lots of it.**

 **Hope you enjoy.**

Unkle looked around the dark entry that awaited him. He rubbed his hands together, hooting.

"Oh hoh hoh hoh hoh. Dis is gunna be gud!" He grinned, as he began to descend into the dark abyss. The blackness swallowed him whole, only to quickly retreat, as a quick spark of golden electricity forced the meak blackness back. He set the electricity dwelling within the prongs to 'not zap, but be ready to zap' mode. Small crackles of electricity danced along the tesla coils mounted on his back, forcing back the darkness. As he continued to walk forward, he noticed that he was beginning to step not on stone, but concrete, and metal. Someone made this entrance. Unkle grinned even more. He descended down the staircase, sure to take one step after another, and make sure he didn't fall. The shoota in his hand was lazily swung around, his finger shoved in the space between the trigger and the trigger guard.

"Ya wuld fink dat a rich twat like dis Bruce Wayne git wuld at least have sum decent sekurity." He said aloud, shrugging to his own comment, as he continued to walk down the staircase. Finally, he reached the end of it, where their was a metal door. It required a passcode, but unlike the previous computers that he 'hacked' into, it had letters in it too. Unkle rubbed his hands, as he shoved the Shoota onto his back, as he began to type in the skeleton key of all passwords.

" F." He typed in, saying each letter aloud so he did not pick the wrong one. The screen turned red, and the sound of a lock being turned within the door aggravated him. Unkle snarled, and grabbed his shoota, and smashed the computer screen with the butt of his gun. The screen came apart like butter, sending shards of glass and sparks of electricity flying. The sound of a lock receding was heard, and the door unlocked, and opened itself.

"Hah!" Unkle grinned, as he cockily walked past the ruined door. Clearly, he was a genius level mastermind when it came to hacking.

"Dere aint nobody betta." He told himself, as he took several steps forward, and stopped. He took a deep breath, his jaw dropping to the floor. Well, not literally. In a figure of speech kind of way. Still don't get it? Let me expla-

The room wasn't a room. It was a cavern. And it certainly wasn't small either. It was the size of a massive warehouse, filled with high tech gadgets, computers, and other systems. The sounds of an underground river could be heard below, softly churning against the rocks and stalagmites. A dim white light illuminated the massive cavern. Unkle whistled softly.

"Hot diggity damn. Dis is sum noice place." Unkle mumbled. Then he glanced slightly to the right, and grinned wildly. Their was a massive computer system somewhere in the distance. He hooted, doing a little fist bump. A humie gesture, as he had learned.

"Dis is gunna be fun!" Unkle grinned wildly, as he started to race towards the computer. His boots stamped against the metal floors that suspended far above the cave. As he reached the final step, his boots slid against the wet and slippery metal. He yelped in surprise, as his squig hide boots, made him slip and slide right into the computer's keyboard. His head slammed into the metal and electronics, giving him a quick, yet painful shock. Unkle rubbed his head in pain.

"Note ta self. Dont mess with electrickery." He growled to himself, as he quickly pulled a chair up, and began typing into the computer. Of course, he really didn't know what any of the buttons actually did, and he barely knew how to read, but his button mashing provided usual results, as a folder opened, revealing schematics and blueprints. Unkle gasped in exasperation and excitement, barely able to control himself.

"Now dis! Dis is wut I'm talkin bout! HooHooHoo!" He hooted, rubbing his hands together in savage joy. Just as he was about to try and download the schematics, a whistling object swooshed past him, slicing him in the face, making a long, yet surgically clean cut on his cheek. The object smashed itself into the computers electronics, further ruining it.

"Wot da?" Unkle growled, before a hand snatched him by the skull, and threw him. It was less of a throw, and more of a hostile push, but the result was the same. Unkle slid on the wet and slippery floor, and started to roll down the stairs. All twenty four steps of them. Unkle tumbled and rolled down the step, each time yelling out an 'ow'. Finally, Unkle hit the bottom of the staircase, where he sprawled out all over the floor. He slowly pulled himself up, rubbing his face.

"Bleedin hell me spleen." He grumbled. Before he could react, a fist got him right in the gut. Instinctively, he lashed out with a fist, hearing a grunt of pain. He looked up, and growled.

"Batman." he snarled. Batman did not reply, as he released a fury of fists that Unkle was too dazed to block. Each one slammed into his gut, but an orks pain tolerance was far above a human's, so each punch was only a blip on the radar. However, as he grabbed Batman by the throat, and threw him down another set of stairs, he knew that Batman certainly could feel that.

"Ha! Eat dat!" He guffawed. His humor was shortly ended, as a black metal rope was wrapped around his ankle. Unkle glanced down the rope, and as he was dragged down the stairs with Batman, he let out a single word. "Zog."

They tumbled down the stairs together. While Batman was silent with his thumping, Unkle let out a single different curse word each step of the way. They continued to tumble down for a full minute. While they were going down, Batman snatched Unkle, and the two began to lay blows onto each other. Their positions were shifted with each metal step, and as so, each got their fair share of blows. Finally, as they hit the floor, they were sprawled all over the ground. Unkle slowly pulled himself up, coughing and wheezing. He quickly gave Batman a quick kick to the groin, who was also slowly recovering. This sent Batman back to the ground, groaning. Unkle spat a fat glob of mucus and blood right on Batman's chest.

"Stupid grot. Gonna gut ya loike a roast PIG!" He snarled, as he grabbed his choppa, and slowly came over. He pinned Batman to the ground, and rose the knife into the air.

Batman quickly tapped on something on his wrist. Unkle yipped in pain and shock, as a quick jolt of electricity threw him off of Batman. He growled, brandishing his knife with a quick flip.

"Ya know humie, yoo broke me choppa da last toime we met. Dat wuz me FAVORITE!" Unkle growled, as he charged the humie, who was still recovering. Batman grabbed Unkle by the wrist, and yanked him towards the edge of the platform. Unkle's boots slid against the somewhat wet metal, and he yelped in surprise, as he quickly fixed his trajectory. Instead of plummeting off of the edge, he instead barely held on by a thread, his boots giving some traction to prevent him from slipping. The knife was still clutched in his hands, as he spun around, growling. Batman was now standing normally, posing in a ridiculous stance. Unkle would have chuckled, if Batman did not stick out a hand, and waved his index finger into his direction. The universal sign of someone wanting to throw down. Unkle grinned. He liked this humie. No beating around the bush, just some good old fighting. Unkle charged, swinging his knife. Batman ducked, the choppa going right over his head, as he quickly slipped into Unkle's guard. A heavy punch to the gut made Unkle gasp in surprise, as another hit in the jaw made him stumble backwards. Unkle countered by wildly swinging his knife. The choppa made a thick cut on Batman's armored chestpiece, making a wild cacophony of screeches. Unkle snatched Batman by the throat, and gave him a good headbut. Batman roared in pain, as a quick kick to Unkle's groin made him let go of the caped crusader. Unkle grinned. Clearly, he was the master combatant at this current time. He charged forward, swiping with his choppa again, trying to gut the vigilante. He instead swung himself away from the knife, his back sliding against the blade. Batman grabbed the ork in a chokehold, and tried to strangle him. However, the humie simply tickled him. And made him rather uncomfortable. Unkle elbowed Batman in the gut, but Batman did not let go. Unkle then grinned, as he activated the electric arma. The tesla prongs on his back sparked to life, filling Batman with a healthy dose of nearly 100 volts of electrickery. Batman screamed in pain, letting the ork go. Unkle guffawed, watching the humie twitch and squirm.

"Now dats ingenuity! Yoo fink yer so cleva?" Unkle taunted, crouching down, watching the humie continue to twitch and squirm. Unkle then had an idea. He sat down, pulling a bag of Pop Tarts from his coat. He ripped off a piece of metal from his armor, and shoved the Poptart through it, and tried to cook it over Batman. Of course, this wasn't working. Unkle snorted, as he then sat down on him, and amped up the electricity even more.

"Stupid humie. Cant even cook a good poptart himself!" Unkle grumbled to himself, as he finally got up, and started to climb up the stairs, leaving Batman's body.

"Ya know wot humie? I would have killed ya, but yer fun to foight!" He shouted, as he began to climb up the stairs. So arrogant in his apparent victory, that he did not notice nor hear a pair of footsteps up the staircase. He looked upwards, when a boot connected right into his jaw. Blood splurted out of his mouth, along with one of his teeth, as the velocity sent him tumbling down the stairs again.

"ZOG! NOT! AGAIN!" He shouted, as he continued to fall down each and every step. Again. Though this time he was lucky, as he was only half way up the staircase. He then landed face down on the floor, his legs still up in the air. He slowly pulled himself up, only to be shoved down back to the ground. His hands were twisted behind his back, and he felt strong wire bind them together.

"Da zog are ya doin to me? Dis aint Commorragh!" He shouted, reminded of his painful two week visit of the Dark Eldar city. Those were not good times, and he preferred to keep talk about it to a minimum.

"Shut up." A new voice said, as a boot to the back of his legs kept him to his knees. Unkle growled, as he looked at the new figure in front of him. This humie was smaller, and was wearing a black and blue costume. He had two sticks in his hands that crackled with electricity, and his face, but mostly his eyes, were covered with a bat themed mask. Unkle groaned. So there were MORE then one of these Batmans?

"Batman, you alright?" The humie asked, going over to his mentor. Unkle realised something. He had a spare knife in his pocket. If he could just worm it out, and cut the wire, he could escape. He desperately began to work on that, as the humie was busy trying to bring his master up. Unkle slowly tried to get up, but a quick jab in his stomach with the shocky bit of the the humies stick made him sit down again. Unkle was surprised that he was even alive. Humies were notorious for their xenophobia and hatred for things nonhuman. They should have killed them by now. But, he decided it would be a good idea, not to bring up his possible execution.

"I'm fine Dic- Nightwing." Batman grumbled, as he slowly brought himself up. He then spared Unkle a glance of hatred, as he snatched him by the back of the neck, and started to lead him out.

"Welcome to Earth." Batman grumbled. Unkle scoffed.

"Dat aint original." He grumbled, as he slowly lead out of the batcave. He began to formulate plans and plots of how he was going to make a break for it. However, when they reached the exit of the Batcave and into the manor, they both realised with shock that their wasn't really a manor left. The entire mansion had been ripped utterly to pieces, and Unkle had a good idea of who it was.

Nibbla stood nearly thirty feet away, breathing heavily. Then, it slowly began to turn its head. Every second, its head rotated a single degree. An agonizingly long time, until finally, one greenish yellow eye was staring right at Batman. Nibbla turned around, and let out an ear piercing screech.

"Call of your monster." Batman growled. Nibbla began to slowly walk forward, its scything talons poised and ready to rip the humie to shreds.

"Yoo didn't ask noicely." Unkle taunted. However, his bravado immediately disappeared, as Batman put his bladed gauntlet at the orks throat, putting enough pressure to make the ork bleed slightly.

"Call. It. Off." Batman growled. Unkle gulped and chuckled nervously.

"Roight roight, course course. Nibbla! Nibbla! Don't hurt da humie! Just stay where yoo are!" Unkle shouted. Nibbla did not seem to listen, and slowly stomped closer and closer.

"CALL IT OFF!" Batman roared aloud, right into his ear. Unkle was beginning to sweat vigorously. This was not expected.

"I'm tryin I'm tryin!" Unkle screeched.

"NIBBLA! YOO BETTER STOP IT ROIGHT NOW, BEFORE WERE BOTH DEAD MEAT!" He shouted, before he paused. "BUT MOSTLY, ITS GONNA ME DATS GONNA BE DEAD! YEAH." He added on. Nibbla stopped moving, and merely let out a hiss, its purpose clear. Don't you dare hurt him. Nibbla slowly turned, as multiple black vans rolled up, revealing dozens of heavily armed officers. They lowered their weapons in horror, as Nibbla gave them a good and hard look with its piercing and withering glare.

"So uh, were yooze takin me?" Unkle asked.

"The only place where you would belong." Batman growled.

/

Unkle was stuck in this car for nearly half an hour. It was cramped, dark, and it smelled… well, he didn't really know what it smelled like. It smelled like a combination of squig cheese, spoiled milk, and Necrons. Necrons smelled like… well… metal? Finally, the car stopped, with Unkle's head smashing against the side of the car. He grumbled in pain, as another puff of chemicals got him right in the face. It took him a moment the first time to realize what they were. But now he knew. Sedatives. A door opened in the van, as his seat pushed itself out, and folded so that he was now vertical. The buckle that held him was unbounded, and he was forcefully yanked out.

"Get out." Batman growled. Unkle muttered a few curses underneath his breath. He took a few looks around before he was forcefully shoved inside the building. A place called, Arkham Asylum. Had a nice ring to it. He liked that. Immediately, ten armed guards immediately stood by his side.

"Hm. I dont fink I'm dat dangerous of an indi-" Unkle grumbled, before he got the butt of a gun right in his gut.

"Keep quiet!" One of the guards growled. More of them were storming out like termites, as they began to escort their second friend.

Nibbla let out a hiss, as he walked up right next to his owner. Guns were trained on Unkle on all times, but none were on Nibbla. Batman seemed to have told them that the beast holds to its owner very fondly. Very, fondly. The door behind him closed. Unkle took a long look around. The place was rather expansive and large. It was mostly made of wood, and looked rather nice. However, as they began to walk towards a place called 'Intensive Treatment' Unkle realised that perhaps this place wouldn't look so nice.

"Is the cell ready?" One of the guards asked, as Unkle was slowly escorted away.

"All types of cells in intensive treatment. Would have liked if they gave us a warning, about… you know." Another replied, nudging his head to Nibbla.

"He can hear ya yoo know." Unkle grumbled.

"I SAID KEEP QUIET!" One of the guards screamed. Unkle sighed to himself. This was going to be fun. Not really. Maybe.

The next hour was a blur. He was escorted down to the lowest part of the prison, where he and Nibbla were shoved into a giant metal and titanium laced container. A collar was placed on the orks neck. After a few moments of prodding, it didn't take long to figure out that it was an explosives device. Most likely to keep Nibbla in control. His uniform and all of his possessions that he had kept to himself had been stripped. Everything he had owned was gone, and was instead given a bright orange jumpsuit suit. He hated orange.

"Well Nibbla. Looks like dis is it. Da end of da old duo." Unkle grumbled. Nibbla didn't say anything, as the Hive Tyrant slowly coiled itself up onto the floor.

"Ya know. I neva knew what Tyranids tasted loike." He stated aloud. Nibbla let out a steady hiss of anger. Unkle sighed, as he laid down on Nibblas spiky and spiny leg. He took a deep sigh, as he scratched his bald head, and began to pick at the gaps between his teeth.

"Well, I always knew dat dis was gonna happen. Me, stuck in a prison cell, counting my days fore I get shot in da gutta." Unkle mumbled. Nibbla let out a small growl. The ork chuckled, as he sighed.

"Sorry I forgot ya. I wuld have fought yoo would have gotten shot ya know?" Unkle asked. Nibbla didn't say much. Well, he didn't say anything really. Unkle sighed, reminding himself to shift position every now and then so he didn't get burned by Nibbla's acid.

After what seemed like several hours, finally, the door to his rather large cell opened. A dozen armed guards stormed into the room, pointing their guns right at the mek. Nibbla gave them a piercing glare of hatred so pure, that most of the guards were shaking in their boots.

"You. You're coming with us." One of them said. Unkle sighed, as he slowly got up, and walked forward. Nibbla let out a growl, as the hive tyrant slowly pulled itself up to stand.

"Not yoo Nibbla. Yoo stay roight dere." Unkle mumbled.

/

After ten minutes of walking, Unkle finally was led to a small room. Inside their was a small table and two chairs. And a little potted plant.

"So uh? Do i just mozy moi way in?" He asked. As an answer, he was shoved inside.

"Arsehats." He grumbled to himself, stretching his back, and scratching his collar. He decided to sit down in one of the chairs, and twiddled his thumbs for a few moments, before the door was opened again, and a woman walked in.

"Are you sure you don't need a guard?" Someone asked.

"I think I can handle myself." She replied, as she smoothed out her completely white uniform. A small little 'A' was clipped right on the left side of her chest, as she sat down. She adjusted her midnight black hair, and gave him a little smile, showing perfect teeth. Unkle was somewhat satisfied now. At least someone here had some DECENCY.

"Hello. My name is Teresa Furtado, but you can call me Teresa. I welcome you to Arkham Asylum." She stated, though she did not offer a handshake. Unkle didn't mind.

"So uh… wots da meanin of dis?" He asked offhandedly, trying to figure a way out of this place.

"This is a patient interview… Mr…" She mumbled, gesturing with her hand that she expected an answer.

"Unkle. Just call me dat." The ork stated, scratching the collar on his neck.

"I would suggest you don't touch that." She stated. Unkle sighed.

"Foine, foine." He grumbled.

"So Mr… Unkle… you are an alien, correct?" She asked, as she clicked a small little cassette on the desk. Unkle thought about his answer for a few moments.

"Yeah, but wots dat too yoo?" He replied. She sighed.

"This is a patient interview. That is how this works." She said. Unkle thought about it for a few moments. He guessed that it made some sense. Some. Not a whole lot, but some.

"Well, if yer gonna ask questions, den shoot." He said. She nodded her head, as she began to pull a long list from her pocket. Unkle's nonexistent eyebrows raised up in surprise, as she continued to unfold the long and curly list, until it was nearly the length of her arm, and had the thickness of normal paper. She ripped part of the list off, and hit it against the table to straighten it out.

"So Mr. Unkle. Where do you come from?" She asked. Unkle sighed. So she had to start off with a doozy.

"I kum from da wurld dat we called 'Da Crag.'" He grumbled. She gave him a glance that had an obvious meaning. Explain.

"Da Crag iz an old ork world it is. It was founded by da boyz durin Da Beast WAAAGH!. Da Beast used Da Crag as a stagin point for an invasion to wopie out Da Humies." He began, before he was quickly interrupted.

"Who is 'Da Beast'?" Teresa immediately demanded. Unkle chuckled.

"Only da biggest, strongest, and meanest ork ta eva live! He wuz da soize of a city block, and his teeth were as large as dawoodythingsdatstickoutofdaground! He led da Biggest WAAAGH! Ta eva exist, and It wuz glorious!" Unkle explained, using his hands as visual aides, even though it didn't really help much, if at all.

"And did you take part?" She asked. Unkle shook his head.

"Nah. Da Beast WAAAGH! Wuz a hell of a long toime ago. Razgriz wuz innit doe." He grumbled.

"And who is Razgriz?" She asked. Unkle stiffened. She was heading into orky territory.

"Razgriz wuz me mentor and teacher. He taught me all of da fings dat I know today." He stated. Teresa nodded, and began to read through another part of her long, long list.

"Speaking of which, reports from the crime analysis labs found that you managed to make a teleportation device out of the following: Pieces of a toaster, two Iphones, seven chopsticks, parts of a car battery, two Pop Tart wrappers, an easy bake oven, and a dil- adult entertainment product. Care to explain how?" She asked. He snorted, adjusting the collar of his prison jumpsuit.

"Cuz i'm a damn genius, dats how." He proclaimed.

"And your electric armor. Parts of a car, a tube of lip balm, a pair of scissors, a salt shaker, a harmonica, a pasta strainer, a pair of rubber gloves, a pair of tesla prongs, five toy robots, some traces of quartz crystal, and two pounds of copper wire."

"Cuz i'm a brilliant mastermoind, dats how."

"And finally, your gun, that fired 17mm sized bullets. A butter knife, a lock, a notebook, bottle of lotion, an umbrella, a pack of cards, an oven, two rolls of aluminum foil, a Nerf Gun, and a tea cup."

"Cuz i'm da best mek around, dats how."

"You are not the best mek around. As far as I know, it's completely impossible. And where did you even find half of this stuff?" She asked. Unkle shrugged.

"Da dump." He answered truthfully.

"So, you made a teleportation device, a suit of armor, and a machine gun that shoots rounds nearly the caliber of 20 millimeter rounds; which are designed to shoot down Aircraft and to damage Tanks, from the garbage?" She asked.

"I don't fink I stuttered." Unkle mumbled. She sighed.

"It's literally impossible to create something like that. How did you do it?" She asked. Unkle grinned wolfishly, an idea popping into his head.

"Would you loike a… live… demonstration?" He asked softly. She raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean… live?" she whispered. Unkle leaned in, and began to whisper in her ear.

"Simple. Yoo give me da materials, and I'll show ya how yoo make dis. Slip in some 'junk' into me cell, and I'll have sumfin ta show yoo by mornin…" He muttered. He leaned back, and grinned slightly. Let's see if his genius, masterfully crafted, cunning plan would work.

/

After the ork was escorted back to his cell, he took a nap for roughly two hours. There really wasn't much, if anything to do in his cell. Nibbla had coughed out a small blob of Biomass that turned itself into a Ripper, if only to give his master something to play with. He played an endless game of tossing the squirming Tyranid into the air, to only catch it in his hand, and then toss it again. The real challenge was not to get his fingers ripped apart by the Ripper, as literally half of its body was a mouth with small needle like teeth. Then, roughly at midnight, his cell opened, and a pile of garbage was pushed into the cell. Unkle grinned slightly at this, as he stopped throwing the Ripper into the air, and popped it over to Nibbla, who quickly devoured it.

"Jackpot." He mumbled to himself, as he waited for the cell door to close. He quietly began to scrounge through the pile of garbage, and put himself to work. Without Power Tools, Welders, and other items, it was difficult, but it was nothing he couldn't do.

By morning, he slapped the collar that was around his neck into the clip of his brand new weapon, shoved the clip into his gun, and pulled back the firing pin.

"Roight. Operashun "Getmedahelloutofdiszogginplace' is now undaway!" He cackled, as he pulled the trigger.

The recoil on the Kustom Mega Blasta sent him flying into the wall, resounding with a loud thump. He let out a groan of pain, as the gun fell out of his hands, and he slowly peeled off of the wall, and then landed on the floor with a 'splat'. However, the plan had worked. Their was no longer a door, only ashes. The pure amount of energy from the Kustom Mega Blasta had literally vaporized it. He grinned wolfishly, as he and Nibbla ran out the door. Immediately, red lights flared, as the entire security grid began to overload.

"Roight Nibbla! Froo hell we go!" He hooted, as Nibbla swept his tail under the ork. Unkle quickly clambered up the Tyranids back, setting himself firmly on the top of Nibblas head. He gave Nibba a quick kick from his boot, and the Hive Tyrant let out a psionic screech, as it began to charge forward. Bulkheads were quickly being sealed, as they tried to stop their progress. But Nibbla was angry. And no one got Nibbla angry.

Nibbla ripped through the Bulkheads, as it charged like a bull. Reinforced Titanium was parted like the moses twat with the red (wasn't even red) sea.

"Roight Nibbla, weze on da lowest part of da prison, roight?" Unkle asked. Nibbla didn't even respond, as the hive tyrant quickly changed direction, as it continued to stomp and charge

"And we gotta get to da HIGHEST part of da prison to getdazogoutta here, roight?" He added on. Nibbla didn't say much, as it quickly began to rip its way through the walls, irreversibly releasing quite a lot of prisoners as it destroyed quite a few cell doors with collateral damage. A pool of orange jumpsuits and a variety of shades of humie skin colors flooded out of the ruined cells. Unkle grinned. Here was a business opportunity just waiting to happen.

"Oi ya twats! If ya wanna get da zog outta dis place, AND…" He shouted, as he tapped Nibbla affectionately on the head. "Ya dont wanna get comfertable with big old beasty boy ere, den yoo lads shuld werk for me!" He offered. They were quiet for a few moments, though it was rather difficult to hear if they were actually being silent, as the blaring alarm system was proving difficult to hear.

"Do we get paid?" Someone yelled.

"Yes! But not yoo! Yer gonna work fer free, ya greedy bugga!" Unkle shouted. He heard a quick 'Aww', before he got a roar of approval from the inmates. Unkle grinned wildly. Things were going according to his somewhat existing scheme. However, as he heard bulkheads and security fences powering up, he knew time was short.

"Roight den lads! Ya first job is ta riot! Take ova da prison, let all of da boyz out, and let dem riot, kick, scream, and shout!" He shouted. He could hear the stamping of feet and guns being loaded. The security were coming.

"But dont let them let it all out! Deyz gunna need sum energy, ta beat dere bludy heads against da loons dats gunna stop us! I SAY, LET EM TRY! SHOOT! SMASH! STOMP! CHOP!" He roared. Nibbla slowly turned around, as one of the gates opened, revealing a team of security guards. They slowly looked on in horror, as Nibbla began to produce an alarming amount of Bioplasma, a large green glow coming from its stomach, that slowly rose to its mouth.

"Nope! Fuck that! Nopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenopenope!" One of the guards screamed, as he threw down his gun and made a run for it. It was a smart move.

Nibbla puked out the massive blob of bioplasma. The blueish green blob of biological plasma energy connected with the front of the security team. Those in the front didn't even have time to scream, as their flesh literally melted off of their bones, and then their bones followed short. Those in the back got off the luckiest, only getting third degree burns and parts of their flesh being liquified. However, they were quickly cut down, as the prisoners took the security guards weapons, and put them out of their misery.

"ROIGHT BOYZ! FORWARD!" Unkle shouted.


	4. Chapter 4: Dastardly Villians

Hey guys, Uncle WAAAGH! here.

This story is now being beta read by Flame Falcon

So their should be a big quality jump, from diarrhea tier to shit tier.

Anyways, enjoy

Arkham Asylum was rather notorious for its prison riots. They didn't happen often, but when they did the results were disastrous. Their was a very, very good reason why the asylum was on an island, separated away from the rest of Gotham. For these events, in which a breakout happened, the 'patients' could somewhat be isolated. The asylum itself was split into different sections. It worked in the way that, the lower you went, the worst it was.

At the very bottom of the Asylum, one such riot was underway. And it was one that the staff at the asylum, could not prepare for.

Unkle grinned in savage joy, as Nibbla stalked through the halls of the asylum. Behind him, were a mob of prison inmates, roughly fifty in number. They had quickly taken over the Intensive Treatment part of the asylum. It was only six o'clock anyways, so there weren't that many guards on shift. And now, the ones that were were trying everything to quarantine them.

As they came to the elevator shaft, they heard the sound of metal screeching and wires falling. Unkle stopped Nibbla from moving, as they all saw the elevator plummet down, before smashing into the ground. A cloud of dust erupted from the crashite, slightly irritating the orks eyes.

"Sonuvabitch! They cut the cable to the elevator!" One of the inmates roared. Unkle chuckled.

"HA! Yoo lads fink dats gunna stop us?!" Unkle roared. The inmates were quiet. Unkle made Nibbla turn around. The Hive Tyrant stared down each and every one, before it let out a hiss.

"Yoo dere! Step forward! Yer da lucky winna!" Unkle shouted, pointing at an inmate far in the back. The crowd shifted.

"No, not yoo. No, not yoo. Yes! Yoo!" Unkle shouted, as finally, the crowd revealed the lucky winner. He was a heavily tattooed man, who was covered in scars from top to bottom, with a green tattoo sleeve on both arms. He slowly walked forward, stroking his ginger beard.

"What do you need boss?" The man asked. Unkle patted Nibbla on the side of the head.

The Hive Tyrant puked out a glob of acid at the man. The fat blob of greenish blue acid landed right on the man. He screamed for a few seconds, before he couldn't do it anymore, as he quickly dissolved into the blob, turning into nothing but Biomass. The inmates stepped back in shock, as the Hive Tyrant came forward, and began to lap the Biomass quickly. After Nibbla was done, Nibbla collapsed onto its knees, holding itself down with its claws. Unkle quickly leaped off, as Nibbla quivered and shook and shuddered.

"What's it doing?" One of them asked. Unkle chuckled.

"Doing his favorite trick." He merely said. After thirty seconds, Nibbla rose up and let out a piercing scream, revealing a set of leathery wings, nearly twenty feet wide.

"It fucking grew wings!" One of the inmates shouted.

"Lookie here lads, we got captain obvious! Roight, yoo boyz secure da position, I'm gunna try and get dis elevata back workin!" Unkle shouted, as he clambered up the hive tyrants carapace. Nibbla let out a eerie howl, as it leaped off of the ground, its wings flapping with such power that it created small waves of air, pushing the inmates back. Nibbla violently flapped his temporary wings, slowly but surely reaching another level of the prison. Nibbla slammed down onto the ground, as one of his lower scything talons began to rapidly mutate. The bone scythe quickly dissolved in a light green mist, as it was quickly replaced with a rotten, pulsating organ. A devourer.

Nibbla let out a howl of anger, as it fired the devourer at the now fleeing guards. The living ammo splatted against their targets. They immediately collapsed and started screaming obscenely, as the devourer worms buried into their nervous system, ripping it to utter shreds, before they quickly went to the brain, and began to violently 'devour' it.

Unkle heard the sound of drums. Ba dum, tss. Seriously, who was doing that?

"Roight Nibbla! Give me sum 'coverin foire'! I'm gonna try and figure a way da get a new elevata!" Unkle shouted. Nibbla let out a hiss, as it began to prowl forward, shooting its devourer again.

"Ah Nibbla. Yer so luvable." He sighed, before he paused, noticing a few devourer worms squirming around on the ground.

"But you leave such a mess!" He groaned, kicking one of the worms away with his shoe. He looked around his current area, trying to figure out anyway to help the lads get up. Their had to be more then one elevator shaft, right?

Unkle glanced around some more, before he grinned. Their was a massive whole basket full of towels. He had saw a movie called the Shawshank Re-whatever the hell it was called. This would be fun.

Unkle grabbed the massive basket of towels, and began to tie them each and everyone of them up. Nibbla fired another burst of devourer rounds, killing another score of guards. Time was ticking, and he knew it. It wouldn't be long before the asylum went on complete and total lockdown.

Finally, he had tied the last towel, and he wrapped it around a support beam, and threw it down. He saw the towel rope plummet down to the lower levels.

"ROIGHT! START CLIMBIN!" He shouted down, looking back at Nibbla, who was currently impaling a guard on the horn on his head, sending the others running for their lives. Nibbla swung his head back and forth, ripping the man's torso to utter shreds. Red ichor poured down the Hive Tyrant's face, giving him an eerie and ghastly appearance. Nibbla slammed his head against the wall, accidentally ripping the guard into two different sections.

"Noice! Roight Nibbla, I got me a kunnin plan!" He chuckled, rubbing his hands together. The Hive Tyrant turned to face his master, hissing quietly.

"I fink dat da cells need powa to keep dose doors closed. So wot if we- you and me course, sheank into da generator room, den cut da cables, and den in UN! FEL! SWOOOP! Release all of da prisoners! Den, we can cause utta anarky!" Unkle proclaimed proudly, very fond of his original and uninspired plot. Nibbla let out an ear piercing roar, making the windows in his vicinity crack and shatter.

"Dats da kind of enthusiasm I wanna see!" Unkle hooted, giving the Hive Tyrant a little elbow to its leg. Nibbla let out a grumble, and swiped his tail underneath the orks legs, knocking the ork over.

/

Bruce Wayne was currently overseeing the reconstruction of his mansion. It was nearly totally destroyed, thanks to his now closely hated villain, the ork. He still hadn't known his name yet, but hopefully the research staff at arkham asylum gave him that information, and more.

His mansion was utterly in ruins. Not a lot survived the recorded monsters rampage, which rather strangely, was right at the same time that he and Dick and incapacitated, or at least, captured the ork. It was as if it knew instinctively to protect its master, for some reason. The destruction of his house put quite a serious dent in his wallet, but that wasn't the most important thing. What was really important, was the protection of his identity.

Perhaps the ork didn't know, but if he did, Bruce's identity was in serious risk. Only a certain few super villains knew his identity. To name a few important ones, Bane, Hugo, Ra's, and Deathstroke. Bane himself was in Arkham Asylum, after a chaotic struggle to keep him down.

Bruce's mind involuntarily went back to the alien duo. He had contacted Hal Jordan, and to an extent, the Green Lantern Corp to see if they could find a possible homeworld for them to be deported to, but so far, they had found nothing. Not a single trace. Which was strange, and disturbing. Where they aliens at all? Demons perhaps?

Bruce suddenly got a message on his cellphone. He quickly took it out of his pockets, and put it to his ear.

"Yes Alfred?" Bruce demanded. Alfred on the other side became a bumbling mess.

"Sir! Arkham Asylum is currently rioting! Most of the guards are dead, and more and more prisoners are being released by the moment! I have already informed Gordon, and he is mobilizing the police force to try and quarantine the island." Alfred reported. Bruce sighed.

"The perpetrators?" He asked fiercely.

"Its… Its the alien." Alfred replied. Bruce sighed.

"Contact Dick and Barbra. Tell them to meet me there. We are going to need all the help we can get." Batman growled, as he ran to the Batcave as fast as possible. Just another monday.

/

Nibbla smashed down the door to the control room with his barbed tail. The tail was a living weapon in of itself, dozens of spikes being propelled forward by insects living within the Hive Tyrants muscular tail. The steel door was ripped to utter shreds, before the door fell to the ground with a whump. Nibbla hissed, as it came closer to the door, though the Hive Tyrant could not fit. It stepped aside, allowing Unkle to step inside. The ork quickly took a piss on the electronics to the side of the door, making a boogaloo of electric sparks. Unkle hoisted his Kustom Mega Blasta onto his shoulders, as he jogged to the keyboard and jumped, before missing the chair, and falling to the ground. The ork pulled himself up, brushing the dirt off of his jumpsuit. Unfortunately, his little stunt had failed, slightly soiling his reputation. He still wanted to find his coat. This prison jumpsuit was itchy in all of the wrong ways. And his coat was special to him.

Unkle grabbed a chair, and sat down, and began to casually tap on the keyboard with his sweaty green sausages called fingers, trying to figure out what did what, and who did who. After ten seconds of button pressing, Unkle decided that this wasn't enough. So instead, he grabbed his gun, took a step back, and fired. The kustom mega blasta spat out a burst of pure golden energy, vaporizing half of the control room keyboard. He got the desired effect, as the lights completely blacked out. Unkle could quite literally see nothing but the energy radiating from the barrel of the mega blasta.

"Nibbla! Do dat trick of yers." Unkle commanded. Nibbla let out a growl. It was quiet for a few moments, before a bright yellow and green light erupted from the outside of the room. As Unkle began to try and turn on the emergency power with what buttons were left, Nibbla let out a glow of bioluminescence. The pores in the Hive Tyrants skin let out a soft and eerie glow, while Unkle continued to smash the buttons and pull the switches like a deranged lunatic. Finally, red lights appeared from above, along with the near instantaneous sound of cells being opened all around the complex.

"Now DATS hacking!" Unkle grinned. He was getting good at this. The ork got up, and pushed himself out of the chair, as he walked out of the control room. He took a map from a rack, and began to look at it.

"Roight, so da way to da top is dattaway. But, da room dat holds me kit is dissaway. So can we go, datssaway?" Unkle asked aloud, seriously thinking about it. Was that even possible? Nibbla let out a grumble, a low rumble emanating from its throat. Unkle took his offer of advice into consideration, as he studied the map some more, before he crumpled it up, and tossed it aside.

"Roight Nibbla. Weze gunna have ta hit un room, afta da uvva. So, dis is my, orkifessional apinion. We get me kit, loot sumuvvas twats gear if we wanna, and den, we get da ZOG!" He shouted, just to elaborate. "Outta here." Unkle added on quickly. The ork chuckled to himself.

"Sound good?" He asked, looking at Nibbla for approval, the Hive Tyrant spared him a glance for exactly ten seconds, before he simply let out a grumble.

"Gud, gud that's what I thought." Unkle chuckled to himself, as he quickly went back into the room, and began to clean it off any shiny bits.

"See? Dats why I luv ya. Yer so agreeable wiff. Its loike we got so much in common." Unkle shouted, as he gutted a power system, ripping out wires and switches, to get to the good doohickies and thingamadoodles on the inside.. Nibbla didn't say anything.

"Roight?" He then asked, waiting for confirmation. Nibbla only spared him a glance, as the Hive Tyrant began to stomp away. Unkle sighed.

"Foine foine, lets get me kit and go. Dat shite aint cheap." He grumbled. It really wasn't. It cost him three of his own teeth, and a chipped nail. He really didn't like that. Unkle hoisted himself onto the Hive Tyrants spiky carapace, sitting in his usual position atop of the Hive Tyrants neck.

"Roight Nibbla, dissaway, den, we go dattaway." He stated. The Hive Tyrant changed his course. Unkle tapped his fingers against the hive tyrants carapace.

"Ya know Nibbla, dis reminds of me of Da Pit." He grumbled. Nibbla didn't say anything beneath him, instead merely hissing.

"Did ya forget?" Unkle asked in surprise. He thought he had told him of Da Pit. Nibbla didn't say anything.

"Well den, lemme remind ya." Unkle explained, as he began to delve deep into his memory.

/

The Crag was an ork world, shoved right in the borders between Segmentum Pacificus and Segmentum Solar. Ever since WAAAGH! Beast had been stamped out, The Crag was one of the most difficult to get rid of. It was like a scab that you kept picking, but every time you looked away, it simply came back. It took nearly three millennia to isolate it and destroy it, and even then, a massive warp storm swallowed the entire planet, making it impossible for anything to get in, or out.

The Crag was not only an ork world, but a death world. With scorching heat reaching nearly seven hundred degrees fahrenheit. With three suns in the system itself, there was no safe place to hide. But with seven moons, The Crag was well covered during its night. It had an odd day/night cycle, where it would often cycle between short scorching hours of sun, and cool and dark cycles of night.

And within the ork city, was The Pit. The Pit was a disgusting, rancid place, full of ork style crime, disease, guns, thieves, peddlers, and of course, shit. And because of that, The Pit was the thriving place of ork culture. Each section of the ork city, to which there were seven, belonged to a certain clan. Inter Clan warfare was common in The Crag, but in The Pit, there was an informal non aggression pact. Well, as non aggressive as you could get with an ork.

Unkle glanced down at the paper slip in his hand, as he got out of the trukk. He stomped down to the ground, reading the paper over. He looked up, scanning the sky. The moons were covering all of the suns well, making an eerie black shroud. However, hundreds of gas, squig, and fart fueled lights provided quite the gloom.

"Dis da place boss?" A screechy and scratchy sound squealed. Unkle glanced down, as Moogrub clambered out of the trukk, and waddled over him. The grot scratched his long ears, and picked his long nose. While Unkle was nearly six feet tall (Five five when he was hunched, which was usual) Moogrub was a gretchin, or a grot. Which meant that he was rather small. He was roughly three feet tall, and was a sneaky, dirty, lying, coward. But at least he wasn't a snotling.

"Yeah, dis da place." He grumbled, shoving the piece of paper into his filthy pockets. "Follow me, and watch boff ways for ya kross da street." Unkle proclaimed. As if to make his point clear, a speeding kart came his way. Unkle shoved himself and the grot backwards, as the speeding kart rokked and ricocheted around the street. Unkle briefly saw a trio of Evil Sun ork boyz hollering and screeching, spraying the insides of their mouth with red spray paint, screaming 'Orkhalla!'. The kart then immediately crashed into the brewery they were heading to, completely wrecking one of the windows and part of the building. The kart then exploded, a plume of flame engulfing the front part of the kart. The mob of orks rolled out of the now wrecked cart and made a run for it, while a mob of Goff orks filed out of the bar, pulling out their choppas.

"OI! DERE ARE DOSE EVIL SUN TWATS! KILL EM!" One of the orks shouted. They then ran after the Evil Sunz, waving their choppas around into the air. Unkle rubbed his face. Stupid Goffs.

"So wadda da BIGGA boss need us here fer?" Moogrub asked, as the orks quickly bolted across the street. Unkle then delved into the kart, looting any shiny bits before the Death Skulls got to it.

"Ta ensure a delivery. Some twat owes Razgriz a bit of uh… teef." Unkle explained, as they passed the ruined door. Unkle looked around the brewery. It was a rather quaint bar. Nice. Organized. For ork standards.

In the corner of the bar, a band of Goff Rockers were shredding their guitars in the corner of the room, absolutely going squigshit crazy. One of them was wearing a red top hat, and a red beard filled with hair squigs. A mob of orks were cheering on the Rockers, as one of them began to beat the drummer with his guitar, quickly starting a massive bar brawl. Unkle sighed, rubbing his face. It REALLY had been a while since he visited The Pit. Unkle approached the bartender. He was a fellow Blood Axe, judging by the tattoo on his left arm. The ork glanced up at him, as he stopped piss shining one of the mugs.

"Always gud to see a Bloodaxe 'ere. I was gettin sick and tired of da Goffs." The bartender chuckled, nodding his head to the mob of Goffs, as they began headbutting each other to the point the ork with the tophat's skull had caved in to the point blood poured out like a water spring, completely covering the floor.

"Eh, who wouldn't?" Unkle suggested, getting the pair of orks to chuckle at the Goff's stupidity.

"So waddya need?" The bartender asked, smoothing out his filthy apron.

"Gimme a squigbeer." Unkle ordered. The bartender nodded, glancing at Moogrub, who was trying to climb up.

"And him?" the bartender asked. Unkle shrugged.

"I unno, Apple Juice." Unkle suggested. The ork chuckled.

"Fermented Piss, kumin roight up." the bartender exclaimed. Unkle walked over to one of the unoccupied tables. He sat down, and grabbed one of the menu waivers on the table. He looked at it, reading it slowly.

"Da Tragedy of Hamlet, boss of Denmark" Unkle read, before growling, crumpling it up and tossing it aside.

"Waddabunchof squig shit dat is. Dose damn Bad Moons fink dey can peddel dat shit?" Unkle grumbled. Bad Moon Enturtainment had really been going down the crapper as of late. Why, he really didn't know. After a half an hour of waiting and drinking his squig beer and laughing at the orgy of violence that was the center of the bar, he got what he came for. Finally, the door to the bar opened. It got quiet very quickly, as a massive nob came in. The nob was nearly nine feet tall, and was rather pudgy. A quirk of being a Bad Moon. Decorated with the finest scrap armor and patchy clothes around, along with a golden monocle on one eye, the Nob looked quite prestigious. It was Badrukka Teefsnatcha, the most dastardly thief and rascal on this side of The Crag.

Badrukka sat down in the seat in front of him. Bits of metal fell from his armor with the rapid motion, clattering against the table. The occupants were still quiet, before they slowly went back to their activities. But even then, they were still silent, eager to see what was going to happen. Unkle put his hands together, and put them on the table, and began to twiddle his thumbs.

"Badrukka. I hope you have the teef ready. Da boss dont loike to wait." Unkle grumbled. Badrukka growled, his horribly scarred and burned face pulling back, literally pulling the skin aside to show the muscle underneath. It was like the skin on his face was badly sewn on back to his facial muscles.

He reached into his armor, and pulled out a bag the size of Unkle's head. He then tossed it to the table. The sack collided with the table, the thin string pulled back, revealing the content. Teef. A lot of them. Unkle grabbed the sack by the neck, and weighed it. Moogrub went up to his master, pulling out an electronic scale. Unkle dropped the sack, and looked at the numbers.

"Yer missin five pounds of teef ya know, Badrukka. Da boss wont loike dat, not un bit." Unkle said, insulting him. Badrukka growled, revealing a jaw filled with rotten and twisted snaggletooths and fangs.

"Harvestin Teeth aint dat easy." He snarled. Unkle smiled slightly.

"True, but swindlin Razgriz is impossible." He stated, before he smirked. "Roight?" Badrukka howled, throwing the table as far as he could.

"DATS IT! I'M GUNNA STRANGLE DA LOIFE OUTTA YA!" Badrukka roared, as his hands reached for Unkle's throat. Unkle tried to get out of the way, and squealed, closing his eyes, when Badrukka let out a groan of pain. Unkle opened one of his eyes in surprise.

A massive choppa was shoved right into Badrukka's chest. The nob let out a splurt of blood from his lips, looking at the blade. A invisible silhouette began to change and morph, revealing the massive frame, of Razgriz.

The ork was massive, standing fifteen feet tall. He was covered in so much armor his skin wasn't even visible. While most ork armor was scrappy and junky, Razgriz's armor was strangely refined. It was smooth and shiny, recently polished. The occupants in the brewery looked on in awe. Razgriz was a legend within The Crag. Barely anyone had ever seen him, for he lived far, far away from the city. His face was entirely covered by a red glass dome, with a black skull painted on it as well. Unkle had never even seen Razgriz's face himself.

"Yer cooperation is welcome." Razgriz grumbled, as he shoved the knife deeper into the nobs chest. Blood spurted out, as the massive ork ripped the knife out. Badrukka careened and wobbled on his feet, before he collapsed to the ground, bouncing a couple of times before his body was still. Unkle gulped fearfully, grabbing the bag of teeth.

"B-b-b-boss, i got ya da teef ya wanted…" He mumbled, holding up the bag of teef as an offering. Razgriz slowly reached out, taking the bag of teef, and looked it over.

"Ya got a lot to lern, Unkle. Now let's go." Razgriz commanded. Unkle and Moogrub ran to their master, as Razgriz pressed a few buttons on his wrist, and they disappeared with a spark of golden lightning.

The bartender shouted, waving his fist into the air.

"OI! YA DIDN'T PAY UP!"

/

Unkle chuckled at his story, as Nibbla finally stopped walking, and lowered his back. The ork slid down the Hive Tyrants spine, sliding to the ground. He stumbled a bit, before he regained his posture, and stormed into the vault. He flicked a couple of switches, revealing a whole room full of gear and kit. He let out a breath of air. Their was quite a lot of killing weapons here, and he loved it. But he didn't need any killy weapons. His kustom mega blasta was good enough. So instead, he went to look for his own.

"Nibbla, gimme me tools." Unkle demanded. Nibbla hesitated, but finally obeyed, as the Hive Tyrant began to let out a roar of anger and pain, as cysts underneath the folds of his carapace began to pop and sizzle, letting out a small river of green pus. Finally, several power tools fell out of Nibbla's carapace. Nibbla hissed in pain and anger, giving Unkle a mean look, as the ork went over and grabbed a crowbar, shaking it of biofluid. It smelled like salt, and sweat. And candles. Unkle then shoved a crowbar into a box, and pried it open, revealing… a "freeze gun" who was owned by "Mister Freeze"

"Mister Freeze… wot a stupid name dat is." Unkle grumbled, looking back at the warehouse of boxes. This was going to take awhile. And this was going to be… booooooriing. For the next half an hour, he opened up box after box, revealing everything, except what he wanted.

Well, it was going to be boring, when Unkle heard a noise.

"Oh Harley, tell me, which suit looks better? The one with the Acid Flower, or the built in laughing gas? Do tell!" He heard. Unkle raised an eyebrow. Must have been the wind. Unkle moved down a crate and yanked it open, revealing his hat. Unkle grinned.

"Squingo." He chuckled, as he quickly ripped off his jumpsuit with abandon, slipping on his shirt, greatcoat, and pants. They even washed it. For, some reason. Unkle finally put his peaked cap firmly on his noggin, and grinned.

"Feels gud to be back." He smiled. He then turned, putting his eyes right into a cold barrel.

"Say, thats quite a good makeup job!" The man smiled. Dressed in a purple and green tuxedo, the man had a peculiar look. With bright green pupils filled with lunacy and insanity, and a paper white face and a smeared red lipstick all over his lips, in the form of a smile, it made him look rather ghastly.

"However, thats MY gig." The man growled. He then paused, lowering his gun slightly. His eyebrows raised up in surprise. Unkle glanced behind him and smirked, feeling Nibbla's heavy breath on his neck.

"Ya loike da guard squig?" Unkle growled. Unkle noticed a woman creeping up behind the Joker, both of them still shocked. However, they didn't have time to process anything, as a cloud of smoke filled the air. Unkle coughed and wheezed, while Nibbla let out a roar of anger, swatting his tail. He heard a grunt of pain, as he saw someone get smashed into a bunch of boxes. Unkle raised his eyebrows in surprise at who it was. It was Batman. Not only Batman, but Nightwing, and some other woman he didn't know.

"Ah ya gotta be zoggin kiddin me. Deres THREE of ya?" Unkle moaned.

"Maybe so, but their's FOUR of us." Joker grinned, picking up Unkle's crowbar.

"Isnt that right Harley?" Joker asked, glancing back at the girl to his side. She grinned.

"Of course Mister J!" She cheered, grabbing a massive mallet. Unkle chuckled, cocking his Kustom Mega Blasta.

"Den lets get dirty. But not really, cuz dis was just washed."


	5. Chapter 5: Schemes and Plots

Hey guys, Uncle WAAAGH! here.

A bunch of new characters, and foes in this chapter.

This would have been longer, but I've been sick with the flu this whole weekend, which was awful.

(1 like equals 1 pray)

Anyways, enjoy.

Unkle fired his mega blasta, signalling the battle. The blinding blast of golden energy vaporized the area that Batman was previously standing. However, Batman rolled out of the way, After that, everything became a blur.

Nightwing swung into action, swinging his shock batons with beautiful ability. The Joker managed to dodge the quick swings of his baton. He then snatched Unkle's crowbar, and swung it like a bat, hitting him brutal force. Nightwing stumbled back, right into Harleys reach. Swinging her massive oversized mallet, it hit Nightwing right beneath the legs. The blow swiped Nightwing from the ground, making him fly into the air before he collapsed. Before Harley could bring it on his skull, the other sidekick kicked her right in the jaw, before giving a few blows himself.

Nibbla stepped into the fray, letting out an ear piercing screech. He smashed down one of his larger scything talons, nearly hitting Nightwing. Nightwing however rolled out of the way, and began prodding Nibbla with his electric batons. Nibbla became enraged, and wildly and madly swung about, hitting everything except for the intended target.

"Yoo go Nibbla!" Unkle shouted, completely distracted of what was happening. This cost him, as an explosive batarang hit him right in the chest, sending him skidding backwards. The orks pants caught on fire due to the combined efforts of the explosion and friction. Unkle let out a squeal, as he began dragging his ass on the ground, trying to take the fire out.

Batman came forward, ready to pummel the ork, before a bullet got him right in the shoulder.

The Joker let out a cacophony of insane laughter, as he continued to unload with a gun at Batman. Unkle extinguished the fire, and took an opportunity to scramble back. He grabbed his mega blasta, which had fallen out of his hands. He pointed it right at the two sidekicks, who were desperately trying to prevent being gored by the hive tyrant.

"Say goodbye, snotlings!" He hooted, and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. The mega blasta let out a windows XP error sound, before it fell apart in his hands. Unkle looked at it for a few moments, and let out a roar of anger.

"DAMN YOU MIKROSOFT!" He shouted in anger, as he threw the pieces of his gun aside, picking up a chainsaw, one still covered in vicious biofluids. Ignoring a missed bio plasma shot which exploded five feet away from him, he revved it up. His kustom chainsaw let out an oily belch of smoke and gas, as the built in flamethrowers kicked in. He let out a wild hoot of laughter, as he pointed it right at Batman. He had finished off Harley, and was now trying to fight off The Joker, who seemed capable of holding his own.

"Let's turn up da heat!" Unkle shouted, as he pulled the trigger. The burna's spewed out a bright red and orange gust of flame. However, Unkle quickly remembered that a Burna's reach wasn't that far. And he was, rather far.

"Mork damnit." He grumbled, as he ran forward, revving up the chainsaw. Swallowed up by the moment, Unkle let out a violent burst of laughter.

"RRRRNENENENEENE!" He shouted out, mimicking the sound of a chainsaw (it's totally it you guys) as he charged forward. As Batman gave a violent uppercut to The Joker, one so powerful that he was completely launched off of his feet, and was sent into a couple of boxes. Batman turned, to see the ork right on him, swinging the chainsaw down in a eviscerating motion.

Batman dodged the blow, and gave a quick kick right at the orks knee. Unkle swung the chainsaw, getting a quick screech of metal against metal, as he had cut a large gash right in Batman's chestplate.

"BURN!" He shouted, laughing in joy, as he pulled the trigger. He splurted out a burst of flame, engulfing batman. However, he stopped laughing when a gust of water exploded out of his suit, putting out the fire almost immediately.

"Wot?!" He said in disbelief, as a hook right into his jaw knocked him back. His chainsaw flipped into the air, before it smashed into the stone floor. It skittered around, rapidly moving around the floor.

This complicated things, as Unkle was now fighting two enemies at once. Batman, and his own chainsaw.

"Chainy! How kuld ya bretray me loike dis!" He shouted in disbelief. As a response, a quick text appeared on one of the small screens on the side of the chainsaw as it whirled past him. It read, '01000010 01110101 01110011 01101000 00100000 01100100 01101001 01100100 00100000 00111001 00101111 00110001 00110001'

Unkle gasped in shock, before he roared in rage.

"Yoo bastard!" He shouted in anger. How could it betray him like this?

Unkle's plans of revenge on his own weapon were quickly forgotten, as Batman kicked him right between the legs. Unkle hooted, as he grabbed Batman by the throat, lifting him up. He whistled, as he continued to strangle Batman with one of his hands.

Nibbla, who was currently busy trying to trample Nightwing, while Batgirl was lobbing explosive devices heard his master's call. Preparing a ball of Bioplasma, Nibbla let out a howl of anger, as he lobbed the ball of bioplasma. At the same time, Unkle walked right in front of the direction where the bioplasma ball was going, and with all of his ork strength, he threw Batman right in front of the bioplasma ball. Unkle leaped out of the way, as the bioplasma ball connected right into the figure of Batman.

The bioplasma ball exploded, showering the ground with a corrosive spray of energy. Unkle uncovered his eyes. There were only two of them left now. But then he paused. Batman was still alive. Unkle opened his eyes in surprise. He didn't kill Batman, like he had planned. Instead, it was someone different. Nightwing.

The entire front of his body was utterly ruined. The flesh on his skin had melted off, and instead sealed itself on the floor, creating a sticky residue made of human skin. His face as gone, only leaving a screaming white skull, which even then, didn't last long, as the bone marrow was dripping off like tears on someone's face. The back part of Nightwing remained somewhat intact, but that was still not enough to consider him alive. Unkle glanced at Batman, who was slowly picking himself up. Though a few splatters of bio plasma had caused deep scorch marks on his armor and cape, he was relatively intact. Batman slowly walked up to what remained of Nightwing, and cradled what was left of his body. In order to do so, Batman had to literally peel off the skin and tissue that glued his body to the floor. His eyes were wide in shock, before they became enraged. He slowly looked at Unkle, giving him a stare that chilled him to his core. Unkle smirked though.

He threw down the tellyporta pad that he had scavenged out of his crate. It quickly began to morph into a properly functioning tellyporta pad. Batman ran forward, letting out a roar of determination, anger, and rage. Unkle merely smiled. Batman was far too consumed in anger to realize the card in his sleeve. Nibbla merely smacked the humie aside with his thick tail, sending him into a couple of boxes. Unkle gave Batman a proper salute, putting one hand on his forehead, and then waved it off.

"See ya later snotlings!" Unkle shouted, as he pressed the detonator, zapping both Unkle and Nibbla away, to fight again another day. (Hey that rhymes)

/

Two days later, Unkle was skimming through a travel brochure. He was sitting in an airport, using a master disguise to conceal his identity. Many had heard of the criminal that had killed the Batman's sidekick. So in order to travel around earth, he had created an elaborate disguise.

Unkle was wearing a pair of green polarized aviators, but that was not only the most elaborate part of scheme. No, their was far, far more.

He was also wearing a fake mustache, the kind that you got from the dollar stores. The ingenious part about it was that it was upside down. Unkle assumed that this wouldn't attract too much attention. As he looked through the brochure, he bit into his BLT, chewing it for awhile before he swallowed.

Unkle had decided that if he wanted to get home, he would need some fancy tech. Though Gotham was fun to visit every now and then, it really didn't have the kind of tech he was looking for. So where was any better place to go, then the so called, city of tomorrow? Why not Metropolis?

The real problem getting to Metropolis was that it was quite a walk. And he already had stirred up more trouble, by robbing seven banks in four hours. It was quite the record, if he said so himself. Luckily, he didn't run into too much trouble. So he figured why not get on a plane?

The hardest part was security. He had already paid for his ticket, under the fake alias of 'George Washington'. Genius, really. However, he had figured out that if he was too pass through security, with his weapons, he would be arrested. So his plan was genius.

He shifted slight, as the line was moving on. He took all of his deadly weapons and tools, and slowly shoved it into the humans luggage in front of him. He let the humie get through. Immediately, shouts of alarms were said, and the person in front of him was tackled and dragged away. Unkle fixed his coat, as he stepped forward. He stepped through the metal detector, and was given the green light. Unkle passed the struggling humie, and smirked to himself.

"You are a genius Unkle, you really are." He mumbled to himself, scratching the patch of skin underneath his mustache.

After half an hour of waiting, Unkle finally got on the plane. He had gotten himself a first class ticket, since he was a fancy git. He sat in his window seat, nomming on his complimentary peanuts. Things were going easy for him. But he did not know that his arch nemesis, was coming for him.

/

Watch Station Historiarum

994.M41

/

Lord Inquisitor Linus Schaeffer smoothened out his hair, and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was given his orders, and he was going to see them through, that much was clear. And that wasn't the thing that was giving him an exterminatus level headache. The headache where the operatives he was working with.

Linus was given control of a squad of Deathwatch space marines. The most elite of the space marines, next to perhaps, the ordos malleus. While they specialized in daemon hunting, the ordos xenos specialized, in xenos hunting. This squad was supposed to be some of the most highly trained, skilled, and disciplined space marines. Period. There were no exceptions.

But as Linus looked between his fingers, he could see that clearly, this was not the case. His superior, was a dick.

The Deathwatch kill team was made up of four space marines. One of them was choking a fellow space marine, while one was nearly yelling out tales of battle, ones that sounded grossly over exaggerated, and one was skulking about in the corner, drawing suspicion by simply existing. At first glance, it may have not been as bad, but the more Linus stared, the more he wanted to put a gun in his mouth.

"MAKE ONE MORE FUCKING FIRE PUN, I FUCKING DARE YOU WALKING AUTISTIC PIECE OF SHIT." The Angry Marine roared from underneath the Salamanders arm, who was trying to break the chokehold of the Salamander that held him tight.

"Here's something to brighten your day." The Salamander stated, chuckling slightly, while the Angry Marine let out a scream of rage, a thick white froth pouring out of his mouth grate. Meanwhile, the Ultramarine was still spouting out tales of glorious battle of how he had wrestled a carnifex down to the ground with his bare hands, even though Linus knew that a space marine could not possibly hope to strangle a being that large.

The most elusive figure, and the one that Linus was by far, the most suspicious about, was the last figure in the far back of the room. Though they all had the same black color scheme, along with the silver shoulderpad with the symbol of the inquisition, the left shoulder pad was painted a dark blue, with a bone white skull and two red wings coming out from it. It was a Night Lord.

Linus had always heard stories of members of the space marines from traitor legions never actually betraying the emperor, but he had never thought he would see one. Besides, how old could he possibly be? The horus heresy was ten thousand years ago, how was it that he had never been killed up until now? Currently, the Night Lord was sharpening a crooked, cruel and twisted dagger on the wrist of his armor. It let out a piercing screech every time he sharpened it. It was an endless cacophony. His helmet looked up to face him. Linus cleared his throat.

"Quiet. All of you." He shouted. They did not hear him. Linus sighed, and took out a las pistol, firing it right at the Salamanders shoulder pauldron. The blinding beam of light collided into the space marines armor, doing… nothing really. It wasn't its intention to kill him though, as that got his attention.

"Next shot goes higher. Now keep your mouths shut. All of you." Linus bellowed. The space marines stopped their quarreling, as they gathered up into their seats together.

"State your name, chapter, and occupation." Linus said, getting out a large file of paperwork, and began to sift through.

"Sternguard Veteran Germael, Ultramarines." The Ultramarine stated first, clearly proud of his rank. The others shot him a glance, before the Angry Marine snorted.

"FUCKING ULTRAFAG. GO LIVE IN A MUSHROOM YOU OVERGROWN SMURF." The Angry Marine shouted, before he glanced back at the Inquisitor.

"ASSAULT MARINE INDIGNATIO, ANGRY MARINES." He roared. Linus looked through his papers, just to validate it. Unfortunately, he did have an Angry Marine under his command. This complicated everything.

"Techmarine Rogo, Salamanders." The Salamander said. The Angry Marine snorted.

"SHOULD HAVE CALLED HIM LITERAL CANCER." Indignatio grumbled. Rogo chuckled.

"Let me lighten up your day." He merely said. This sent Indignatio into a screaming fury, as he tackled Rojo to the ground, and began to wrestle with him. Finally, Linus glanced at the Night Lord. The Night Lord looked up slowly. He put his knife back into his sheathe, and cleared his throat. Instantly, Rojo and Indignatio stopped fighting, and went back to their seats.

"Metum. Tactical Marine." The Night Lord said. Linus slowly nodded, as he removed a section of paperwork the width of his arm. All on Metum. He skimmed through the file, looking through them. Linus finally nodded.

"Stuck in cryostasis for nine hundred years. So that's why you aren't dead yet." Linus said. Metum nodded.

"Yes." He replied. Linus cleared his throat, as he swept the paperwork aside.

"Listen up astartes. For this will be your only mission debriefing, because their is a very, very high chance you may not return." Linus stated, as he pressed several buttons on the table. The surface of the table retracted to reveal what was an essentially a large hologram. Pressing several buttons, the program began.

"Two decades ago, we came across a massive ork controlled system within the Imperium's territory. Remnants, of the Beast War." Linus began. He let the mood sink in. The Beast War was the most catastrophic war in the Imperium's history, right next to of course, the Horus Heresy. The massive ork armada had nearly taken holy terra herself, and had nearly completely wiped out the Imperial Fist chapter, along with many other smaller successor chapters, not to mention the billions upon billions of lives lost. In short, nothing to scoff at.

"Magos Biologis was able to locate an incredibly rare breed, or strain, of orks." He said, as he began to pull up the reports.

"These orks would appear normal at first, but would gestate and grow at an extreme rate, both in size and intelligence. And they would not stop. Controlled experiments were conducted, but their seemed to be no way to physically stop such a growth pattern." Linus stated. Indignatio rose his hand.

"CALL ON ME YOU FUCKING POINTY HAT GINGER." Indignatio roared. Linus sighed.

"Yes, astarte?" Linus asked. Indignatio put down his hand.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST FUCKING BOMB THE ABSOLUTE SHIT OUT OF THE PLACE?" He asked. Linus sighed.

"We would have, believe me, but after several scans, we found out that the only inhabited planet had massive stores of extremely valuable metals-"

"LIKE GOLD? BITCHES LOVE GOLD. I WOULD KNOW, BECAUSE I FUCK ALL OF THE BITCHES."

"If they would care to notice…"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP ROGO, I SWEAR TO THE FUCKING GOD EMPEROR MY MOTHERFUCKING FOOT WILL BE SO FAR UP YOUR MOTHERFUCKING AS-"

"Silence." Metum growled. They stopped arguing. Linus gave him a quick nod of appreciation, as he continued.

"Regardless, the breed was determined extremely dangerous, and all orks designated with this where to be killed, and for their bodies to be shot into a sun, or black hole. We began a siege on the ork world, and ten days later, we took it. All of the orks were destroyed. Except, for one." Linus said, as he pulled up a screenshot. The image was blurry, but it was an ork in a brown and green trench coat, along with a peaked cap and gun.

"This ork goes by the name of Unkle. It has been my duty, to track this bastard down. However, this ork is smart. It has been on the run for years, ever since we have destroyed the ork stronghold." Linus growled, remembering personally why he hated the ork, rubbing the scar that went from the top of his eyebrow down to his chin

"The ork knows many, many secrets, that would prove rather valuable to the Imperium. But Unkle is a master of running away. So far, he has killed four assassins, sent by the Officio Assassinorum." Linus said. To that, one of the space marines whistled, while another one whispered 'A worthy adversary'. Linus didn't blame them.

"However, it recently disappeared in an explosion. I thought the ork was dead. But of course, I was wrong. Somehow, Unkle has managed to not only escape our universe, but to somehow reach far, far beyond it." Linus said slowly. He let it sink in, before he continued.

"So you are telling us, that this ork, has managed to completely get out of our universe, in an explosion?" Germael asked slowly. Linus shook his head.

"Not in an explosion. A machine. A portal, for a lack of better words." Linus replied. He adjusted his uniform, before he continued.

"We have been trying to replicate this technology, from the scraps of blueprints that were scattered around the site of the explosion, and from previous encounters." He said. He leaned in.

"Fifty of your brothers have died to try and even apprehend this… this creature. But now, he thinks that he is safe. How wrong he is." Linus said, before he smiled.

"But we have managed to replicate, a temporary copy." He said, as he began to pull up images and schematics.

"For decades, the tech priests of mars have been analyzing the idea of alternate universes and multiverses and the like. Now, they have managed to find the loose coordinates of where the ork has went. This device is a one way trip. Once you get in, the only way out, is with the orks help." Linus said.

"So what is our mission?" Metum asked. Linus smirked.

"You will find, and seize the ork. You will make him build a teleporter, and send him back, right into our clutches. Succeed, and you will be recognized as even greater heroes of the Imperium." He proudly said, before he paused, and chuckled.

"Fail, and you won't be coming back. Understand?"

/

An hour after he left the airport, Unkle slapped on a Hello Kitty sticker on his tellyporta, and flipped the switch. It sparked to life, bucking and moving. Unkle sighed, and sat down on his chair, and took a sip of lemonade. Unlike Gotham, Metropolis had nice weather. He was sitting on a small beach, on Saint Martins island. Only the rich blokes lived here, but he already had murdered the old man who lived in this part of the island, and took his mansion over. He put his lemonade down, and adjusted his sunglasses.

The tellyporta let out a bright spark, as Nibbla suddenly appeared. The hive tyrant let out a hiss, as it stepped forward, and looked around, before it glanced down at its master.

"Ah Nibbla! Yer just in time." Unkle said, grinning. He took out a large paper, filled with his evil schemes and machinations, and handed it to Nibbla. He held it out patiently, while the hive tyrant merely stared at him. Unkle looked at Nibbla, and lowered his glasses.

"Oh yeah. Ya don't have any hands." Unkle said, chuckling slightly. He sighed, as he looked it over, and began to explain.

"Dese humies have pissed me off fer da last toime Nibbla. When I ordered me apple juice on da Airplane, dey gave me ice cubes, when I said, dun give me ice cubes. I'm sick of dem!" Unkle growled, making a fist with one of his hands.

"So in orda to take down da humies, weze gonna need a WAAAGH! But first, weze gunna need da bestest of da loot we can foind." Unkle growled. He skimmed through it with his finger, and grinned.

"So here's me plan Nibbla, lissen close. Da place here got a S.T.A.R.S lab here. We might wanna hit that place furst, fer any techyology. If dat place dont got any gud kit, we check out Lex towa. Lexcorp is a fancy place, run by dat egghead, Lex Lootha. Damn dirty and mean, I heard." Unkle grumbled, as he flipped the pages.

"Afta we get a good amount of techyology, kit and maybe teef, weze goin travellin again. Wanna know where, Nibbla?" Unkle asked, looking up at the Hive Tyrant, who was trying to go fishing. Nibbla let out a hiss.

"Australia! Dey got lots of islands, where we can hoide away, and prepare da WAAAGH! I'll uh, i'll tell ya da rest of me shneaky plot later." Unkle said, stuffing it away. He sipped some more lemonade.

"Humie tech aint reliable. Dats when I come in." Unkle chuckled, swishing around his glass. Nibbla let out a growl. Unkle glanced at Nibbla.

"Ah dont worry buddy. Yooze gunna get a part of dis plot too. We stroike at midnoight, capiche?" He asked. Nibbla hissed. The ork smiled, as he leaned back further into his beach chair, and eased off his shoes, revealing his absolutely disgusting, fungus encrusted toes.

"Yeah Nibbla, I know me plans are da best. Dats why, I'M, da best." He said, and sighed.

"Now Nibbla, enjoy da break fer now. Weze gunna need da rest." Unkle smirked.

Kangarooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo


	6. Chapter 6: Counting STARS

Hey guys, Uncle WAAAGH! here.

Here is the next chapter. Short, I know, but I wanted to at least get something out this weekend, while I am working on other projects.

Enjoy!

In the dead of night, roughly at midnight, the area surrounding the S.T. lab was quiet. With the silent drone of crickets and the like, it would seem that it was all alone at S.T. . Not for long.

Unkle peeked out of his bush disguise, looking around. He saw no one. Humming the mission impossible theme song, he quickly picked the bush up, and ran to the wall of the lab. He sat down, and waited. No one, he thought to himself, as he pulled out a scrappy looking gun. He pointed it up, and fired. A thick cloud of smoke erupted out of the gun, as an oily and greasy wire and grapple, that flung upwards. Unkle dug the gun into the ground, and waited. And waited. And waited.

Unkle looked at his watch and sighed, patiently waiting for the grapple hook to hit the roof, and for it to stick onto something. He tapped his foot, and began to cut his nails with his knife while he was waiting. Finally, as he was done with one of his hands, his grappel gun barked and kicked and screamed, as it had finally launched onto something. Unkle grabbed the wire, and began to climb. He pressed a button on the side of his boots. Small amounts of toilet plungers slid out of the sole. He then began to climb up the wall. Each step he took, a rather noisy plop sound was created. And the wall was pretty zogging high.

"Just a bit more…" He grumbled, as he continued to climb upwards. Finally, the toilet plungers on his feet gave, just as he scrambled up to the roof, and kicked the grapple hook. It became unlodged, and it fell down to the ground. Unkle shook the leaves out of his uniform, making sure all of his weapons, tools, and new gadgets were in place.

"Roight, part b. Get in." He grumbled, as he looked around. Finally, he grinned, seeing a vent. He took out a crowbar, and dug it in, pulling out several bolts that held the grate in. He ripped out the grate, and shoved it aside. He rubbed his hands, cackled, and took a few steps back, before he ran forward, and slid in.

"Zogzogzogzogzogzogzogzogzogzogzogzogzogzogzog!" He whispered, as the velocity of the swirling vent propelled him forward. It was rather cramped, but Unkle managed to squeeze his crowbar into his hands, and then shove it down at the next grate. It stopped his movement entirely, the strength of which he hit it so hard that the grate was ripped out. Unkle fit his legs into the gap, and leaped down, falling right on a janitor. The janitor was pushing a cart full of cleaning chemicals. Cleaning chemicals that fell on the olds man face.

"My eyes!" He shouted in pain, as bleach and peroxide spilled all over his face. Unkle put him out of his suffering, by shoving a knife in his throat.

"Damn humies." He grumbled, pulling himself up. He wiped off any stray chemicals on his coat, before he looked at the body. He had to get rid of it. Unkle sighed, as he wrapped his arms around the humie, and looked around for a good hiding spot. Finally, he had found one.

Unkle spent the next five minutes trying to shove the dead janitor into the trash bin next to the faculty room. It was extremely difficult, as it really didn't help that the janitor was, rather pudgy.

"Come on fatty, get in!" He growled, as he spat in his hands, and gave him one last shove. His legs gave way, as he had finally squashed his entire body into the trash bin. Unkle sighed, wiping his brow of sweat.

"Dat wuz hard." He said, sighing. He went over to one of the coffee machines, and quickly bought himself an iced coffee. A caramel mocha.

Unkle shoved the bendy straw into his mouth, loudly slurping it, as he quickly ran to the security office, where he would find all of the cameras and the like.

As he ran, he realized that he was running right into a group of guards. A group of nearly ten.

Unkle tried to stop himself from sliding, but decided that he could use it to his advantage. He slid right past the guards, and threw his now finished iced coffee at one of them. The straw gouged his left eye out, leaving the guard screaming.

"Doi humies!" Unkle cackled, as he pulled out two sluggas. He open fired with the recently bought humie weapons, filling several of the guards with lead. However, even with humie technology, his aim was awful, as he was wildly swinging them around, instead of actually holding them straight. One of the guards ran to press the alarm button, when Unkle activated his mini teleporter.

The ork teleported right inside of the guard, instead of the intended target, which was in front of the humie. The humies skeleton was vaporized by the warp energy of the teleporter, and the lightning bolt that followed made his body explode, showering the guards that still lived with gore. Unkle pulled out his two handed axe, and cut into the guards that still lived. He decapitated one, while he smashed the axe into the other's knee, hitting it so hard that he nearly chopped off his leg. Unkle ripped the axe out, as the guard fell screaming. Unkle stopped, standing right behind him, as he put the axe over his shoulder like a golf club. He brought it down, slowly aligning it right to the humies skull, and then swung with all of his power. The results were gory, as the man's head was split open like a cantaloupe, spilling bone chips, brain matter, and lots and lots of blood all over the place.

"Hole in un!" Unkle hooted, wiping his coat of blood. He shook his hand, spilling the cardinal fluid all over the ground.

"Dat… dat wuz fun. Now, where were we?" He said aloud, as he began to quite literally hack the security systems to pieces. Anything in that room was not safe from Unkle's wild swings of his axe, until nothing was either bisected, or utterly wrecked.

Unkle tossed the ruined axe aside, and rubbed his hands, grabbing a large report of all of the facilities and individual research this laboratory was conducting. He looked it over, before he sighed.

"Marine Biology. Dis facilitee is speculized in marine biology... Da hell am I gonna do with fish? I can just hand it over to dose squinty eyes and get sushi! Da zog is da point?!" He shouted, and threw the report down. One lonely page floated out of the file, landing right on his shoe. Unkle looked at it, and snatched it. He held it up to his face, examining it more closely.

"Portal gun eh?" He said softly. He then growled, shoving the paper into the pocket, remembering the room number.

"Stupid humies. Dey dont know how to make a tellyporta roight and propa!" He shouted in anger. They probably stole some of his own idea!

Unkle then ran out, as he began to try and locate the laboratory that held this portal gun.

After a couple of minutes of searching around, mainly by running, and by using what juice was left in his pocket tellyporta, he had found the room. Room 151811. He shoved it open, looking around. Computers, filing cabinets, and other things.

But as he looked around some more, Unkle paused. Standing in a glass case on a podium, was a strange looking device.

"Wot an intricate lookin devoice. I probably shuldnt touch it." He said aloud. Unkle looked at the camera, and shrugged.

"Eh, whooze gonna stop me?" He asked, chuckling, as he glanced back at the case, and smashed it open with his elbow. The glass shattered, sprinkling shards of glass spilling all over the floor. The orks greasy paws snatched the device up eagerly. He looked it over slowly. He noticed it had a trigger.

Unkle pointed the thing at a wall, and pulled the trigger. Golden light spewed out of the device's barrel, and it coated the wall. It semi formed into a golden oval. Unkle lowered the device, and walked over to the golden circle. He tried to put his hand through it, but it didn't work. The ork snarled, throwing the thing to the ground.

"Useless!" He shouted, before he paused. It had fired another splot of golden energy up onto the roof. Another golden circle appeared. Both of them hollowed themselves out, revealing… the other side.

Unkle grabbed the crumpled up map from his pocket, and chucked it through the hole. It disappeared. Unkle looked up, to see the paper ball falling from the hole in the roof, and then fall onto the ground. The ork looked at the device on the ground, and then grinned savagely.

"Well den. Maybe yoo aint so useless." Unkle grumbled, as he scooped up the gun. He cradled it in his arms, and looked at it, before he planted a smooch right on the barrel. He regretted it immediately, as he had burned his lips.

"Zog, zog." He shouted, rubbing his lips. He stowed the gun away, as he heard police sirens. Unkle grinned, as he pulled out several chunky blocks of homemade C4 (except he called it Ork 4) and tossed them around the laboratory. Unkle pulled out a tellyporta pad from his coat, and threw it, as he grabbed two detonators. With the press of one, he was teleported back to his new mansion. And with the second, he detonated the bombs. Unkle heard faintly in the distance the booming sound of his toys blowing up, before the ork chuckled.

Nibbla looked up, seeing his master, before he settled his head back. The Hive Tyrant was watching the current of the waves, and was lazily gobbling up food that his Rippers had collected.

"Nibbla, get yer lazy arse up. We got work ta do." Unkle chuckled. He then paused.

"Is dat cake still in da fridge?" He asked. Nibbla let out a hiss as confirmation.

"Gud, gud. Wouldn't want to be lying, roight?" Unkle asked sternly. Nibbla didn't say anything. Unkle decided not to press the topic.

/

Dick Grayson's funeral went well for Bruce. If the rogues gallery had any sense of honor, they showed it. Rather than a few petty crimes, committed by lowlife thugs, his main enemies didn't commit any crimes at all during his time at the funeral.

It was painful to watch Dick being lowered into the ground. It was even more painful, to know that the culprit, responsible for the murder of his sidekick… his friend… was still on the loose.

Batman had spent the entire day after hunting down the ork, trying to find where he was, and to bring him to justice, but he was gone. He was long gone. Batman, the world's greatest detective, couldn't have seemed to find him. At first.

After several more hours of fruitless searching, he got an anonymous tip from a disgruntled business man, from Alfred. One of his clients apparently, was stopped and seized at an airport for carrying weapons that he did not own. But what really gave it away as evidence, was of the guns design. Junky and scrappy, like it came from the garbage, or a STEM teachers nightmare. Batman then knew, where Unkle was. He wasn't in gotham. He was travelling.

After doing some more research, Batman guessed where the ork was. He was either in two locations. New York City, or Metropolis. It was a fifty fifty chance, but as Batman turned on the TV in the Batcave, he saw that the S.T. lab in Metropolis was destroyed. Seventy percent of the laboratory had been destroyed by homemade explosives, and the culprit was unknown. But one piece of evidence made Batman pause. He froze the TV, and slowly, very slowly rewinded the broadcast.

The newsman was displaying part of the crime scene, when Batman saw it. A small, irregular burn mark, on the ground. While the rest of the area was unmarked, that one, perfectly symmetrical spot on the ground was marked by a burn.

Batman pulled up a variety of files on Unkle. There were only a few, as he was a recent addition into the notable villains. There!

He pulled up a slideshow of the battle at the asylum. Where he lost Nightwing. Where he lost, Dick. As the ork and his beast disappeared, a golden rod of lightning struck them and the pad. Then they were gone, leaving behind several pieces of scrap… and the same burn mark as on the TV.

Batman compared the two for a few moments, before he confirmed what he was seeing. The ork was in Metropolis. The death of Dick was too much for him. He was skilled, and he was dangerous. Though Batman, sincerely did not want to do this, he NEEDED to bring this… this scum into justice.

It was with heavy amounts of uncertainty, that he called the Justice League. He stood up, and began to head to the nearest teleporter, that would take him to the watchtower. It was time, that this was put to an end. Before anyone else was hurt.

But Batman had a creeping suspicion, that this would not be his last run in with the ork. He had a creeping suspicion, that they would be the last people on the planet, before the ork gave in. But he didn't know why.

/

With a spark of red lightning, the four space marines appeared out of nowhere. They looked at each other, then down.

They then fell ten feet to the ground, and into a cramped alleyway. They bumped into each other as they fell, making an impossibly loud noise of ceramite and adamantium banging into each other, like pots and pans.

"GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME YOU GREEN LITTLE SHIT." Indignatio roared, the first one to say anything in a different dimension.

"I have a burning question for you…" Rogo grumbled, sending Indignatio into a screaming and roaring mess.

"Silent. All of you." Metum growled. They all shut up, obeying their squad leader. Metum stood up, wiping the grime off of his shoulder pauldrons.

"Listen up. Our location is unknown, though Linus did say we would be on an alternate terra. This means that the locale population does not worship our sovereign lord. This means, that our presence will not be welcome here. This means, that we will stay discreet. Understand?" Metum growled. His squadmates all nodded. Metum glanced at Germael.

"Germael. Until we can pinpoint the location of the ork, we must find a suitable base of operations. Find me one, and then report." Metum stated. Germael nodded, and then stalked away, melding into the shadows.

"Indignatio. Stalk the local populace. Find out any information that should be critical." Metum stated. Indignatio nodded, as he went to start up his jetpack.

"No. That would make too much noise." Metum hissed.

"FINE. YOU FUCKS DON'T KNOW HOW TO HAVE FUN. OR GET LAID, YOU SINGLE PRINGLES." Indignatio grumbled, as he stomped away. Rogo snorted. Metum glanced at the Techmarine.

"Rogo, set up a vox channel for all of us. Communication in this mission will be critical." Metum ordered. The techmarine nodded.

"Do you want me here?" He asked. Metum nodded, as he slowly walked out, looking out the alley. Bright lights of pink and purple swamped his vision. Metum adjusted his visors polarity levels, as he looked around. Unfamiliar letters filled the sky, along with vehicles that looked like chimeras, but with wheels, that filled the roads. But one thing he could understand. A floating piece of paper skittered across the floor. He stomped on it, preventing it from moving any more. He bent down, and scooped it up, and looked it over slowly.

"Welcome to Tokyo…" He grumbled, reading it slowly aloud. He repeated the phrase.

"Vox communication established." Rogo mumbled from within his helmet. Metum nodded, tossing the paper aside.

After ten minutes of waiting, Germael and Indignation climbed down from the roofs. They jumped, landing into the ground, making an impact with the movement.

"Report." Metum growled, crossing his arms. Germael nudged his head, signalling Indignatio to go first.

"THIS PLACE IS FUCKING WEEABOO CENTRAL. WE HAVE TO BURN ALL OF THIS SHIT TO THE GROUND." The Angry Marine said firmly. Metum sighed, covering his face.

"We are here to capture a xeno. Not to commit genocide." He grumbled.

"THEY ARE FUCKING WEEABOOS YOU BAT WINGED FUCK NUT. THEY DONT COUNT AS A RACE." He replied. Metum looked up, and sighed.

"Then what do you suggest we call them?" he asked. Indignatio chuckled.

"FUEL." He grinned.

"Fuel. Always need more fuel, if you wanna brighten my day." Rogo grumbled, hoisting his flamer over his shoulder. Indignation shot him a glance.

"I AM GOING TO FUCKING STRANGLE YOU, MARK MY WORDS YOU BLACK LITTLE CUNT." Indignation challenged. Rogo chuckled.

"You're insults were always lacking. Let's see if your promises are the same." Rogo taunted. Indignatio was about to leap on the Salamander, when Metum put his hand up, lodging it firmly between Indignatio and Rogo, by slamming it into the wall. Instead of leaping at the Salamander, he instead leaped right into the Night Lords arm, stunning him. Metum then snatched the Angry Marine by the throat.

"You will cease your infighting, before I snap your neck, and hang your body by your entrails. And I will make sure that you will be still breathing." Metum growled, bringing the Angry Marine up close.

"GO SUCK A DICK. OR TEN." Indignatio spat. Metum sighed, and tossed the Angry Marine away, looking at Germael.

"I have found a suitable area that we could use as our headquarters. An abandoned storage house, lodged in some of the poorer areas of the city. Not many would suspect it, fewer would search it." He suggested. Metum nodded. He grabbed his bolter firmly in his grasp.

"We move out men." He said, as they all melded back into the shadows, and disappeared, leaving only a flying piece of paper behind.


	7. Chapter 7: The Hunt Begins

Hey guys, Uncle WAAAGH here.

Now its been awhile since I updated this.

The reason is I want to finish up my other fic, Kriegcraft (which is almost done anyways)

Once I finish that, then I would be more then happy to work on Mean and Green.

For now, I'll be able to put out short updates like this, but dont expect anything meaty until maybe like mid july or august.

Anyways, enjoy.

It had been three weeks since Unkle had attacked the second STAR labs in Metropolis. His current whereabouts were unknown. Well, he knew where he was at least, and it wasn't in any good position.

Currently, he was swearing to himself, as he was trying to land a plane,

"Zog zog zog zog!" he shouted to himself, as he began to flip all of the switches, and push all of the buttons, to try and prevent the plane from crashing, after the engine spontaneously combusted. Sure, it could have been the modifications he added, but he was sure that it wasn't. However, Unkle was a very happy ork. For in his pocket was a USB stick, filled with valuable data. Extremely valuable data, thanks to a CADMUS facility he had sneaked into.

He stopped focusing on what was in his pockets, and into landing this damn thing. He grabbed the throttle of the plane, and yanked it upwards as much as possible. He let out a scream, as he continued to try and pull it upwards to prevent the crash, which at this point was unavoidable. The sheer strength involved was absurd. Because of the strength Unkle was putting into pulling the control wheel upward, it allowed the control wheel to be ripped straight out of the console. It let out a couple of sparks from the ruined wires, before it stopped. Unkle blinked. That was unexpected. He looked the throttle in his hands for a few moments, before he threw it down, and spat on it.

"ZOG!" He shouted, as he unbuckled himself from the pilot's seat, and stood up as best as he could, though the angle and trajectory certainly didn't help. Unkle rubbed his head, slipping on a pair of goggles, smacking them on his eyes. As the plane was spiralling down, he ran over to the side of the cockpit, and ripped out a parachute from a heavy metal case. He strapped it to his back, and slipped on a pair of heavily tinted sunglasses. He looked out the cockpit window. They were getting close to the ground. Unkle sighed, and yanked open the emergency door. A massive gust of wind hit him, as he chanted to himself, and jumped out the plane.

The air smashed into him, as he reached for the cord of the parachute. His finger went through the metal ring, and yanked it. The parachute opened, making the ork jerk upwards. As it was designed, he began to slow down. He grabbed onto his hat, and held it tight, as the plane crashed into the woody forest, destroying hundreds of trees and probably killing hundred of animals. A blazing inferno ignited from the crash, one that slowly began to consume the forest he had crashed into. Unkle glanced at the wildfire for a few moments, before he took out a camera, and took a quick picture of it.

"Eh. I give dat a foive." Unkle snorted, unimpressed at his own crash landing. He really could have done that better than that. He looked down. He was still hundreds of feet above the ground, and he was starting to get bored.

"Hm. Now how do I get down from here…" he grumbled. He didn't have too much time to think through, before a bird flew right into his parachute.

"Oi! Scram ya flying rat!" Unkle shouted, as he tried to swat the bird out of his parachute. It flopped around in a frenzy, ripping and tearing holes in the fabric. It managed to escape out of the parachute.

"Dats roight! Gettoutahere!" Unkle shouted, shaking his fist at the retreating bird. He paused, looking up. His parachute was completely ruined, so bad that one of the strings became undone, and fluttered away down to the ground. He gulped, and slowly looked down. He was still, a few hundred feet down to the ground. He looked up, and pulled a sign out from his coat. It said one word. Help.

Suddenly he started to plummet down to the ground, screaming. As he was freefalling, he reached into his coat, and started to pull things out, anything to save him from falling. A bowling ball, a DVD player, two pounds of poptarts, a brick, two plastic spoons, and a Samsung Galaxy all were thrown out, as Unkle desperately looked for something to save his skin. Finally, he yanked out that portal gun. He had put some modifications into the stolen humie tech (Including a knife that was glued to the barrel itself, and giving it a nice coat of red) as to improve its capabilities. He fired it at the ground, but failed miserably in the task, as he landed right into a large stream of water.

A rather painful smack followed, as the sound of a belly flop worth legend echoed like a cannon, followed by a pitiful scream of pain. A few minutes passed, before the greenskin finally clawed his way out of the river, and puked his lunch of complimentary peanuts all over the ground. He shook himself clean of water, as he reached into his coat, pulling out a tellyporta pad. He chucked it to the ground, and then gave it a solid kick.

Unkle glanced back at the flaming airplane, which was now causing a massive wildfire. Unkle pondered if he should do anything, but he shrugged. No Smoky was around to stop him.

The tellyporta pad let out a bright spark of energy, as Nibbla suddenly appeared. The Hive Tyrant let out a hiss, as it moodily stomped out. Unkle glanced up at the Hive Tyrant and frowned, noticing that somehow, a Bucket Hat had ended up impaled on the Hive Tyrants horn.

"Where da hell did ya get dat?" Unkle asked. Nibbla let out a hiss. The ork sighed, scratching his head.

"Ya know wot? I dun wanna ask." He grumbled. He glanced back at the massive fire. Nibbla let out a grumble, as it stomped around for a few moments.

"Woddya mean, da humies moight notice da massive forest foire? Course dey wont!" Unkle hooted in laughter. Nibbla let out another growl. Unkle took his argument in consideration, looking at the large smoke stack.

"Hm. Yoo might be roight." He grumbled. He scratched his head again, before he chuckled.

"Eh, woteva. Leave da foire fighters ta do dere dirty wurk." Unkle grumbled. He took out a notebook from his coat, and a pen. He opened up the notebook, and looked at the first page, labeled "Supa Evil Plan :3". He considered it super evil, due to the poorly driven skulls and shootas on the sides.

He crossed out Step One. Land In Aussie. Now he was going to do step two. Found a base of operations.

That should be easy. He had landed on a small island, off the southeastern coast of Australia. It was secluded and isolated, so it shouldn't be hard to find somewhere secluded and isolated, just the way he would like it.

He glanced at the USB stick in his pocket, and grinned to himself. He never was a dok, but oh boy, this was going to be fun.

/

"Woddya mean Nibbla, dat dis is NOT safe?" Unkle shouted, as he spat in his hands, rubbing the saliva together between his palms. Nibbla let out a grumble, as he continued to chow down on a group of now dead tourists.

"Well of course dis needs explosives! All of da best villains need a secret lair Nibbla!" He proclaimed, as he stopped rubbing his hands, and quickly adjusted his peaked hat, making sure he didn't get burned from the brutal sun. Damn, it hurt. When he was done, perhaps he would invest in some sunscreen.

"Now hurry up wiff yer meal already." Unkle demanded. Nibbla hissed, as the hive tyrant spewed out a massive river of bioacid all over their dead bodies, quickly beginning to dissolve them into nothing but slimy biomass, in which the tyranid began to lap it up. Unkle sighed, as he glanced back at the massive cliff face he was about to demolish.

"Let's see…" He said, as he glanced to his side, and bent over, grabbing a piece of C4.

"One explosive." He said, shoving it onto the rock face. He bent over, and grabbed another.

"Two explosive." He said, shoving another piece of C4 onto the cliff. Nibbla let out another hiss.

"Yea, it could be easier ta just, foind a cave, but where's da fun in dat Nibs? Da answer? Nun! I aint a quitta!" He shouted, as he paused. He grinned slightly, as he went back to the pile.

"Ten explosive." He added on, as he grabbed as much explosive supplies as he could, and shoved it onto the cliff face.

"Ya know wot?" He said, as he went back to the pile, and grabbed every piece of explosive equipment he could get his grubby paws on, before he shoved it onto the cliff face. When he was done, a whole four by four foot square of the rock face was now covered with C4, TNT, and other explosives, all wired to one detonator. A detonator that he conveniently had in his coat. He pulled out a detonator from his pocket, as he began to take several yards worth of steps away from the cliff, and giggled.

"Zog it! Use ALL of da explosives!" He grinned wildly, as he pushed the trigger.

A deafening boom echoed throughout the entire area, as the entire cliff shook and rumbled, causing a complete landslide.

Unkle covered his eyes, as the entire cliff collapsed and crumbled. The resulting explosion made almost as much noise as the damn plane crash, and his ears were ringing for a good solid minute. Once he was sure it was done, it was then when he turned around. He slowly uncovered his eyes and then squealed in delight.

"HA! See Nibbla? I told ya, wot did I tell ya? Dere we go! Perfect habitabul cave! Perfect for our operations, heh heh!" He grinned, showing off the impressive mouth of the cave, which lead to an impressive system of underground tunnels and routes.

Nibbla let out a surprised hiss, before it quickly slurped up the last bits of biomass on the ground.

"See Nibbla, That's why ya don't underestimate an ork. Cuz I always get wot I want." He said, before he started laughing insanely. He paused, rubbing his hands together.

"First, weze gunna establish ourselves. Gotta let da wurld know wot dere dealin wiff." He grumbled. He then paused, glancing around. He smirked.

"Nibbla. Pass me moi axe. Time ta do sum woodcuttin."

/

Two weeks later…

/

Unkle was back in the good old US of A. There was a reason to it, and the reason was simple. He wanted to have some fun. Naturally, this involved suffering, death, a glass of lemonade, and about fifty pounds of explosives, bullets, and any guns he could get his filthy grubby paws on. That phase was over though. Now it was just getting the hell away.

Unkle whistled to himself, as he madly steered a stolen car down the highway, on the getaway from ten police cars and several choppers. Nibbla was meanwhile still back in Australia, helping him forward his plans. A distraction, for the real deal.

Unkle put one foot on the steering wheel, taking out a cigar and lighting it. He shoved the fungus cigar into his maw, and took a deep breath. The filthy smoke of burned fungus and squig meat flowed into his lungs, and he blew it out, coughing slightly. He then glanced at the dead body of the driver in the back. Unkle grabbed it, and pulled it up to the front seat, shoving him into it.

"Droive fer me buddy, kay?" He asked. He got no response. Unkle giggled to himself, rubbing the bullet hole in the front of its head. He opened the roof of the car, it being a convertible and all. He peeked up to the cop cars, and shouted.

"Oi! Coppas! Suck moi green fat arse!" He shouted, laughing maniacally, as he pulled out a minigun from his coat. He wrapped the belt of 9mm bullets around his chest, as he pulled the trigger. A golden stream of bullets erupted from the cylinders in the gun, letting out a torrent of pure dakka.

"Dakka dakka dakka!" He shouted, as he wildly swung the thing round and about, covering the entire highway with bullets. Most of them either missed, or pinged into non essential areas of the car. A few of them were lucky. Some landed right into the tires of a police car, ripping the rubber frame to shreds. It let out a screech, molten hot sparks flying everywhere, as the car crashed right into another. The two cars were then driven right into a passing gas truck. The result was a massive explosion that rocked Unkles stolen car back and forth, the ork smiled at his work. He then glanced down at the driver, and moved the steering wheel slightly to prevent him from smashing into the sides.

"Bootiful Unkle. Just bootiful." He said, wiping a tear from his eye, before he went back to mindlessly shooting the chasing cars. A spotlight was cast upon him, and in this darkness, it was blinding. The ork hissed, covering his eyes, before he looked up. A deffkotpa. Huh. Ok.

The ork shrugged, as he threw the now spent minigun away, as he reached into his coat for an appropriate weapon. He then pulled out a large rifle like weapon. It looked like a fusion of junk metal and what appeared to be a sniper, though it was anything but.

The miniature Beamy Deffgun fit itself firmly onto Unkle shoulder, as he pointed the thing right at the chopper overhead. He pulled the trigger.

A golden lance of both warp and plasma energy was released from the miniature plasma generator inside, the recoil so powerful it made Unkle slam right back into the passenger seat. The lance of plasma struck the cockpit of the Helicopter, instantly melting almost half of it. Unkle could barely make out the screams of the victims inside, as the molten metal poured onto their skin, horribly burning them as the metal dripped on their flesh. The helicopter swung wildly, as the controls had literally been lost. It smashed into the highway, blocking the highway. Specifically, the route in which the rest of the law enforcement had been using.

Unkle laughed to himself, glancing back, before his jaw fell slightly ajaw.

"Oh… zog." He mumbled, before the car slammed right into a man with a red and blue costume. Unkle was sent flying out of the car, and skidded ass first on the road, leaving a red smear where he went. He then face first slammed into a barrier, knocking out a few teeth.

"Ow." He moaned weakly. The man in red and blue glanced at him with a rather angry look, as he slowly floated down towards him. It was Superman, the man of steel. Unkle grinned slightly. He came prepared for this.

He took out a special grenade from his coat, and pulled the pin, before he lightly lobbed it. Unkle covered his eyes and mouth, as he got up and ran. The grenade exploded behind him, a thick green cloud erupting from the thing. He hopped over the barrier of the highway, sliding down a grassy hill. Looks like he got away.

He then slid right into a group of cops, who were waiting for him. The ork was about to pull out a gun, when it suddenly disappeared from his hand. Unkle glanced down, his eye twitching slightly. He then pulled out another one. It too, disappeared. He snarled in anger, as he continued to pull gun after gun from his coat. This was a procedure that lasted for approximately twenty seconds, before a fist got him right in his gut. Normally, that wouldn't hurt. But the sheer speed that was put in it nearly made him puke. It took a lot to knock an ork down, something that happened when he got another velocity speed fist right in his jaw. As he fell down, he remembered now. The Flash. Welp. Shit.

/

Rojo was sitting in a bean bag couch, casually watching TV. How better the Imperium could be if they had stuff like this. Of course, he couldn't understand a single thing that was being presented to him, but he liked to imagine he could.

His trusty flamer was lying in his lap. Its name was _The Final Ember_. He didn't pick the name, but when he visited his son after his augmentation from mortal into Astartes, that was the name he suggested. He missed him.

Rojo stopped thinking about him, as he switched the channel. He was done with watching the news. Instead of some random woman talking in an intelligible tongue, he was now watching what appeared to be an animated show. Rojo raised an eyebrow, as he adjusted his power armor. An odd cast of characters appeared on the screen, along with strange music. This did not sound like cathedral music, not at all. Instead it sounded like a gutted necron. Indignatio would know. Speaking of which, where was he?

The angry marine walked into the room, pouring a bag of… something into his mouth grille, when he paused completely.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH. HOW FUCKING DARE YOU WATCH THIS WEEABOO SHIT UNDER MY FUCKING ROOF?!" Indignatio screamed in anger, as he stomped forward, throwing the bag down to the ground, revealing multi colored pellets that scattered on the dirty floor.

"I don't think I understand." Rojo said, glancing back at the show. Ooh, things were getting interesting.

Indignatio let out a unholy roar of anger, as he ran over to the side of the room, picking up a ventilation unit, and throwing it at the television. The result effect was obvious, with the entire thing breaking apart.

"Why did you do that?" Rojo asked calmly. Indignatio whipped around, the Deathwatch marine having a thick frothy foam erupting from his grill, one that openly dripped on the ground, splattering the ground.

"LISTEN HERE YOU LITTLE ASSMUNCHER. NONE OF YA FUCKS ARE WATCHING THIS WEEABOO, ANIME SHITFEST WHEN I'M ON THE SAME FUCKIN PLANET AS YOU, YOU UNDERSTAND ME CUNTNUGGET?!" Indignatio roared, pointing a finger right at him.

"Fine then. Let's go out for a light." Rojo merely said. Indignatio paused, before he tackled the Salamander, and began to try and strangle him. Despite Indignatio's unmatched anger, Rojo was still more powerful then him, and in a few seconds, he had the Angry Marine in a headlock.

"Going somewhere?" Rojo asked, while Indignatio began to curse, yell, and roar at such a rate that it simply became incomprehensible jibber, as more foam and saliva poured out of his grille.

Germael and Metum entered the room. The Ultramarine seemed humored, while Metum merely gave them a furious stare. The two of them stopped fighting immediately, though Rojo gave Indignatio a quick smack on the back of the head as they did so.

Though Metum was a Night Lord, he had more than earned their respect. They had served underneath him for nearly fifty years, and they both knew what happened when Metum got angry. Not even Indignatio could hope to match the primal fury that lurked within Metum.

The Night Lord cleared his throat.

"We know the location of our target. He was recently arrested in a crime spree. He is in the country known as the USA. However, we have quite alot of ocean to cross before we can get to him." He said. They all glanced at Metum. He was there leader after all.

"So… how do we get there?" Germael asked. Metum smirked underneath his helmet."

"I have an idea. Who knows how to fly a Thunderhawk?" He asked. Rojo slowly raised his hand.

"Now… would you know how to fly a plane?" Metum asked. Rojo shrugged.

"Can't be that hard…"


End file.
